


Honor Bound 5

by whump_tr0pes



Series: Honor Bound Universe [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Captivity, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hallucinations, Honor Bound, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Past Torture, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Redemption, Revenge, Sequel, Smut, Team as Family, Threesome, Torture, Unplanned Pregnancy, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whump_tr0pes/pseuds/whump_tr0pes
Summary: The team have discovered a plot to exterminate anyone with syndicate ties. They risk their lives to save innocent people who are escaping terrible circumstances. But when the mysterious mayor of Crayton comes for one of their own, they will have to face a threat unlike any they have faced before - and face the demons of their past.
Series: Honor Bound Universe [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595560
Comments: 28
Kudos: 17
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Tied to a Pole

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going hog-wild now. There's no stopping this train.

Isaac drifted between waking and dreaming. The sheets were rough against the healed cane marks on his back, and the air felt like a physical weight in his lungs. He rolled onto his side in the bed – _whose bed?_ – and blew out a slow sigh through his nose.

The sheets next to him were warm. Isaac shivered in the cool of the room – _whose room?_ – well into June, the nights were no longer cold, but the sweat dampening his skin, making his hair stick to his forehead, chilled in the air, soaked into the sheets. He breathed in deeply and something washed over him, the smell of skin and sex and sweat, the smell of someone he was more than drawn to, but was _bound_ to. The smell of someone he was freer with than he had ever been.

He reached out to touch Gavin in the bed next to him. Just before his hand found Gavin, sleep sucked at Isaac’s limbs and dragged him under.

_Isaac looked around, dazed. The sun shone, behind the clouds but still bright enough to light up the snow around him until it was almost blinding. The cobblestones of the square were covered in a layer of fresh, sparkling white. Flakes fell gently from the sky, settling in his hair, melting in the fog of his breath._

_He raised his gaze to the crowd of people standing around him. Most had snarls of hate on their faces, twisting their features, as they jeered at him. He shivered in the freezing air._

_He looked down at his right hand. He held a cane. It was coated in blood. Red trickled from the cut on his forearm and dripped onto the snow beneath him. His hand shook._

_“Isaac?” a voice said softly. Isaac’s head snapped up and he saw Sam in front of them, on their knees, their hand clasped in Gavin’s._

_Gavin was on his knees, too. His hands were tied to the light pole in front of him. He was slumped against it, whimpering softly. His back was a mess of red stripes. Blood trickled down his back under his shirt._

_“Oh, fuck,” Isaac whispered._

_“You know what you have to do, Isaac,” someone said. Isaac raised his gaze to the crowd, his eyes already burning with tears. Daniel Schiester stood in front of everyone else. His cold blue eyes burned into Isaac. He nodded at Gavin, where he knelt at Isaac’s feet. “You know what we agreed.”_

_“But I’ve already given him fifty,” Isaac croaked. Gavin stirred against the pole, murmuring wordless pleas._

_“Is that what we agreed?” Daniel said, and arched an eyebrow._

_Isaac wracked his brain. Yes, yes, fifty was what they agreed upon. Gray delivered eighteen, Isaac delivered thirty-two. Sam had counted with him. Sam had held Gavin’s hand through it all._

_“Yes,” Isaac breathed. “I did what we agreed on.”_

_Daniel laughed mirthlessly. “No, we agreed on_ justice. _While he lives, there’s no—”_

_“This isn’t how this went,” Isaac whispered. His heart hammered in his chest. The cold air was like a knife in his lungs. He tried to make his hand release the cane. He strained to open his fingers. They stayed locked around the cane. He stared down at his own hand in horror._

_“Isn’t how_ what _went?” Daniel said sardonically._

 _“This… I… this isn’t how…” Isaac swallowed dryly. He had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. He’d_ been _here before, hadn’t he? He’d been in the square in Crayton, with Gavin tied and beaten, and he’d paid for his sins that way._

_He’d paid for his sins a hundred times over, now._

_“Ha,” Daniel said softly, as if he could read Isaac’s mind. “You really think he’s atoned for everything he’s done?”_

_“He saved me,” Isaac rasped. Gavin whimpered softly on the ground. “I… he_ saved us. _”_

 _“And that counts for… what, exactly?” Daniel shrugged. “How many lives did he end before he ever got hands on them?” He nodded at Sam. Sam jutted their chin out at Daniel defiantly. “How many lives did he destroy as part of his family’s_ syndicate _?” His lip curled with contempt._

 _“What did they do to you?” Isaac said through his teeth. “The Stormbecks are dead. Why do you…_ hate _him so much?”_

_Daniel smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”_

_Isaac clenched his jaw. His vision swam as he looked at Gavin, bleeding in the snow, then back at Daniel, then back at Gavin._

_“What he does for the people he’s_ claimed _means nothing at all,” Daniel hissed. “Many syndicate members are kind to their playthings. Many keep them as well-cared-for_ pets. _I imagine he’s capable of—”_

 _“We’re not his fucking_ playthings, _” Isaac snarled. “We’re not his_ pets _. He loves us. Loves… loves_ me _.”_

_“I’m afraid I simply don’t give a shit about that,” Daniel smirked. “Now.” He pointed at Gavin. “Administer justice, like we agreed.”_

_“No,” Isaac growled. His hand tightened around the cane. The temperature of the air dropped. He could feel his exposed fingers freezing around the handle. “We’re done here.”_

_Daniel’s eyes flashed with amusement. He tilted his head. Isaac went to take a step, and found himself rooted to the spot. His eyes went wide and he looked at Daniel._

_“What—”_

_Daniel pointed at Gavin. “We discussed this, Isaac Moore. We agreed. ‘Meager justice,’ as Gray called it. And I only call it meager because I’ll allow you to do it quickly.” He folded his hands in front of him and took a step back. “Kill the Stormbeck boy, Isaac. Like we agreed.”_

_“I never agreed to_ anything, _you—” The words were muffled by the gag in Isaac’s mouth._

_“No!” Sam screamed. Isaac looked down and saw they were tied, too, throwing themself against the ropes at Daniel. “Don’t!”_

_Daniel laughed. “I’ll let you go as soon as Isaac is done, little one,” he said lightly. “No need for you to be causing trouble.”_

_“Isaac,” Gavin moaned softly. “Please…”_

_“I don’t want to,” Isaac whimpered. He could hear himself through the gag, but he knew no one else could understand him. “I don’t want to.”_

_To his horror, his body took a step forward. His feet planted themselves in the snow. His fingers, numb with cold, tightened around the cane. He screamed as his body raised his arm and brought the cane down on Gavin’s back with a_ snap.

_Gavin screamed, his mouth falling open in agony and shock. Another line of red bloomed on his back. Tears poured down his face._

_“Isaac,” he moaned. “Isaac…_ help me _…”_

_“I’m trying,” Isaac said. All that came out was a muffled groan. His arm raised again, and brought the cane down on Gavin’s back._

_Isaac heard one on Gavin’s ribs snap. He shuddered and raised the cane again._

_He threw himself against the inside of his body. He could fight, he could break, he could_ destroy _– that’s all his body knew to do. He’d fought against pain before, against coercion before._

_Daniel’s pale blue eyes watched as Isaac brought the cane down on Gavin again._

_“Stop!” he screamed at Daniel. “Stop… please!”_

_Daniel kept silent, as if he hadn’t heard Isaac make a sound at all. He watched Gavin, his eyes_ fascinated, _as Gavin jerked and screamed under another blow._

 _“Isaac,” Sam wailed. “Isaac, no! He’s good! He didn’t… Isaac,_ stop _!”_

_“I want to,” he mumbled through the gag. He reached up to claw at the rough fabric in his mouth. There was nothing there. “Please.” His voice was thick behind the gag._

_“_ Isaac _,” Gavin whispered. “_ Please wake up. _”_

_“Don’t make me do this,” Isaac sobbed. Again, he raised his arm. Again. Again._

_Gavin gasped and shuddered under the cane. His blood ran red into the snow, and it steamed where it melted beneath him. Sam jerked at the ropes around their wrists._

_“No!” they shrieked. “No!”_

_“Please,” Isaac begged. The sound reached no one. Again, he beat Gavin. Again. Again._

_Gavin’s shirt was torn, the mangled flesh of his back showing through. Still, Isaac laid Gavin open. The cane broke his skin open down to the bone. Gavin’s eyes rolled back as he convulsed with the pain._

_“Almost finished,” Daniel said softly._

_“_ Isaac, _” Gavin whispered. “_ Shh _.”_

_Blood cut deep rivulets through the snow as it ran over the cobblestones. Isaac’s hands were sticky with it. His head spun with the smell. Tears poured down his face. His right arm with numb with the force of his blows._

_The strikes rained down on Gavin’s back, until he lay still, his ribs exposed and shattered, his skin ghost-white and smeared with his own blood. Only when his breaths had ceased, and the light in his eyes dulled to a cold, flat green, was Isaac allowed to stop._

_He dropped the cane and fell to his knees beside Gavin._

_“No,” he sobbed, as he gathered Gavin into his arms. He winced as fragments of bone shifted under his hands. Tears wet his cheeks. The gag was gone. He could speak. “No, no, no,_ no _…”_

_Sam reached out and touched Gavin’s face. Their wrists were raw from their struggling. “Gavin,” they whimpered._

_Isaac cradled Gavin to his chest and looked up at the sky. The snow melted on his face, stung his skin. His mouth fell open and he screamed._

Then he was falling, falling, and landed roughly into the arms of the man he’d just killed.

 _“Gavin,”_ Isaac whimpered, and clutched at him. The room was dimly lit by the nightlight plugged into the socket in the corner, a soft yellow light that pushed away the worst of the darkness.

Gavin’s smell was all around him, his skin warm under Isaac’s hands. Isaac buried his face in Gavin’s neck and sobbed.

“Shh,” Gavin murmured, and wound his arms tighter around Isaac. “It’s okay.”

 _“F-fuck,”_ Isaac gasped. _“Shit.”_ His skin was on fire with terror. His stomach lurched. His heart beat hard in his throat.

“It was just a nightmare,” Gavin soothed, and pressed a kiss to Isaac’s forehead. “It’s okay.”

“N-no.” Isaac’s fingers dug into Gavin’s back.

Gavin winced and pulled Isaac closer. “Shh,” he whispered. He gently smoothed the sweaty hair off of Isaac’s forehead. “You’re safe.”

“But _you aren’t_ ,” Isaac whimpered. His face was hot with tears, and from his breath heating Gavin’s skin. “You… G-Gavin, you’re… you’re _not_ …”

“I am, because I’m with you,” Gavin whispered. “We’re safe.”

“But I… I-I… killed you, Gavin,” Isaac sobbed brokenly. “During the caning. I… I _killed you._ Schiester made me _kill you._ ”

“That didn’t happen, though,” Gavin murmured gently. “It never will. It was just a dream.”

 _“Fuck.”_ Isaac pressed his mouth against Gavin’s shoulder to muffle his gasping breaths.

“Breathe, Isaac,” Gavin whispered. His fingers twined gently through Isaac’s hair. “Just breathe. Deep breaths. There you go.”

 _“Sh-shit,”_ Isaac mumbled against Gavin’s shoulder. “I _hate this._ ”

Gavin’s hand moved slowly through Isaac’s hair. “Hate what?” he said evenly.

“Hate _this,_ ” Isaac ground out through his teeth. “We’re safe. We’ve been north for… for a whole fucking _month._ It’s been… _five months_ since I caned you. We’re safe. This is _bullshit._ I’m still…”

“Still hurting?” Gavin gently cradled the back of Isaac’s neck.

 _“Yes,”_ Isaac whimpered. “How long until that’s over? How long until I can fucking… _sleep_ without seeing you _hurt?_ And… and everyone else I care about _hurt?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Gavin admitted softly.

Isaac’s heart was beating slower, no longer thundering in his chest. He drew in a deep breath. The air felt cool in his lungs. He trembled against Gavin’s side.

“But we _are_ safe,” Gavin murmured against Isaac’s hair. Isaac pulled back and looked at Gavin for the first time since he woke up. There were dark circles under Gavin’s eyes, evidence of the sleepless nights he’d spent since the family reached the north, screaming from his nightmares of being forced to hurt the others, or holding Isaac as he screamed through his. They weren’t getting better; they were getting _worse._

At least Gavin hadn’t had a migraine since his first one a week ago.

Gavin’s mouth was drawn. His dark hair was sticking up on one side of his head. But his eyes – they shone as they stared into Isaac’s, open and trusting and full of… of _love._

_Fuck, I hope I deserve that trust._

Unthinking, Isaac pulled Gavin forward into a kiss. Gavin groaned softly against Isaac’s lips. His hand slid up the back of Isaac’s neck, across his cheek, to gently cradle his face. Isaac opened his mouth slightly to taste Gavin’s lips with his tongue.

“You kept us safe,” Gavin murmured against Isaac’s lips. A thrill went through Isaac at those words.

_This is how I keep them safe._

Gavin pulled back to catch his breath. “You protected us. You and Vera… and all of us are safe. You don’t have to fight anymore. We’re safe. It’s over.”

Tears burned in Isaac’s eyes. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I always have to fight.”

“Not anymore,” Gavin said firmly. “It’s over. Not anymore.”

“There’s always a fight,” Isaac breathed. His eyes closed tightly.

“But not for _you,_ ” Gavin said, tilting Isaac’s head up. “Hey. Look at me.”

Isaac blinked his eyes open. He trembled as Gavin’s eyes blazed in the dim light. Isaac’s throat moved painfully in a dry swallow.

“Your fight is over,” Gavin said, his voice like steel. “We’re saving rescues, yeah, but…” He shook his head. “There’s no fight anymore. You can be safe, and free, and…” His hand shook on Isaac’s jaw. “…and _mine_.”

“If we keep taking people like Zachariah,” Isaac said softly, “Then there will be a fight. Daniel _will_ find out eventually. And then…”

“We fight then,” Gavin replied. His voice didn’t waver. He held Isaac’s gaze. “But right now…” Gavin’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “Right now… you’re safe. _We’re_ safe. And…” Gavin pulled Isaac close and pressed his forehead against Isaac’s. “…and I swear to god, I will fucking… I will do _anything_ to keep you safe.” Isaac’s eyes slowly closed. “Absolutely _anything._ ”

“Y-you, um…” Isaac wet his lips. “You too, Gavin.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gavin said with a gentle laugh. His breath huffed warm on Isaac’s face. “You’ve, um, shown that.” He nuzzled Isaac’s cheek. “Vera would call you a dumbass.”

“She’s probably right,” Isaac murmured, and cuddled closer against Gavin’s side. His eyes slowly closed. He breathed in deep, taking in the warm, comforting smell of Gavin, so _close_ , and let it out. Gavin pulled the covers tighter around them both.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn balanced the large paper bag from the pharmacy with one hand, and pushed open the door with the other.

Ellis sat alone in the living room, staring blankly at the mostly unfinished puzzle in front of them. Their face was pale, their eyes dull and deeper set than they normally were. Finn wet their lips and closed the door behind them. Ellis slowly lifted their head.

“Hey, babe,” Ellis said softly. “How was the trip?”

“Frustrating,” Finn said as they hung up the car key on its hook beside the door. “The rizatriptan came in, but the Zofran didn’t.” They walked to the kitchen and set the paper sack on the counter. They looked at Ellis through the window in the wall between the kitchen and the living room, lined with barstools on the living room side that were pushed up against the counter. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“It’s all good,” Ellis said weakly, and slumped down against the couch. “I’ll be okay.”

Finn chewed their lip as they pulled the multivitamins out of the sack and put them in the cabinet, next to the spices. “Yeah, I know, but I… I would have _liked_ …”

“Yeah, me too,” Ellis murmured. Their gaze returned to the puzzle in front of them.

Finn watched them for a moment, then tucked the can of pickled ginger into the fridge. “You doing the new puzzle?” they said softly.

“No,” Ellis said. Their voice sounded thin as a string. “Just looking. You know I wouldn’t keep doing it without you.”

“Damn right,” Finn huffed with a laugh.

Ellis laughed, too, and the sound was soft heat in Finn’s chest. Finn looked over at them where they lay almost completely horizontal now on the couch, staring at nothing. Their hands went still.

“Ellis?” Finn said softly. “Is… is something wrong?”

Ellis shifted, then blew out a deep sigh through their lips. “Um… no,” they said, finally.

Finn abandoned the paper bag and went to Ellis’s side. They sat down on the couch next to them. Ellis shifted onto their back and stretched their legs across Finn’s lap. Finn gently rubbed Ellis’s knee, their hand inches from the spot where if Finn grabbed Ellis’s knee just right, just above the joint, Ellis would shriek and laugh and push them away, their cheeks flushing, their eyes sparkling…

They squeezed gently. “Babe,” they said, and watched Ellis’s gray-green-blue eyes laze slowly over the puzzle. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to move out,” Ellis croaked. Their voice was tight with tears.

“Oh.” Finn drew in a slow, deep breath, and winced around the ache that formed around their lungs as they did. “Okay.”

“With…” Ellis waved their hand vaguely in the direction of the back of the house. “…the new plan, the new rescue, taking in people DFS would have killed… it’s…” Ellis raised their gaze and met Finn’s. It’s… _dangerous,_ Finn.”

Finn swallowed hard. “Yeah,” they rasped. They reached out and took Ellis’s hand. “But that’s… we… we knew that, babe.”

“We did,” Ellis said softly. Finn gently rubbed their thumb over the back of Ellis’s hand. Ellis’s free hand went to their belly, covering up the tiny little baby inside them. They weren’t showing yet. They wouldn’t, after only a month. The baby was only the size of a grain of rice, now, according to the book Finn had purchased in town. They and Ellis had looked at the book together just yesterday, and laughed at how the pictures of fetuses looked more like newly-hatched chicks or baby dinosaurs or anything other than a _baby_ —

_“It has your eyes,”_ Ellis had said, pointing at the two little black dots resting at the top of the little blob.

_“And your tail,”_ Finn had said, and Ellis had pushed them away, laughing, then pulled them right back in for a kiss…

Ellis took in a slow, deep breath. Finn’s hand drifted to rest over Ellis’s, over the baby. Ellis’s hand was cool, but Finn could feel the electric current of excitement under it, the _knowledge_ of the tiny little blob inside Ellis that was half Ellis’s, half theirs.

“I…” Ellis cleared their throat and swiped at their eyes. “I love this family. More than anything. You… you _know_ that.” Finn nodded. “And…” Ellis blinked tears out of their eyes. “And we support each other. We keep each other safe. But with… with _that_ …” They waved again at the back of the house. “I…”

Finn took both of Ellis’s hands and squeezed gently, their knuckles going white as they met Ellis’s gaze. “I think I—”

“I’ve already lost two babies,” Ellis said, heavily. Their eyes filled with tears, and this time, they let them fall, rolling down their temples and into their black hair, limp from not being washed for a few days. “I… I love this family, and I love this cause. But…” They looked down at their abdomen. Their shirt was pulled up just the slightest bit, revealing a thin stripe of their stomach. “No amount of refugees will be worth losing another baby. Or… or being killed, so she has to grow up alone.”

Finn’s mouth pulled into a strained and rueful smile. “I thought we decided it was a boy.”

“Well, right now, it’s just a blob,” Ellis said softly. “Sex organs don’t form until week seven, remember?”

Tears burned in Finn’s eyes. “I remember,” they murmured. They held Ellis’s hand to their mouth and pressed their lips firmly against the knuckles.

“So… I… I can’t live here, if we’re going to be bringing refugees through. DFS will find out eventually. He’s got… who _knows_ how many people working for him. And I can’t… I _refuse_ … I _can’t_ …” Ellis’s voice twisted in a sob. _“…lose this baby, too.”_

Finn’s stomach lurched, and their heart squeezed painfully in their chest. Their hands tightened on Ellis’s as something poured into Finn’s blood, hot and sharp, filling them up, making them ready to fight, to _die._

_Daniel Schiester will die if he threatens my baby._

Finn bit down hard on their lip. “I… I know.” There was another pull, weaker, but there all the same. There was a pull into the fight. They’d _always_ wanted to be in the thick of it, _always_ wanted to go where things were hardest.

_Why the fuck did I sign up to be a medic, then?_

_Because I’m a coward, and deep down I’d rather be on the sidelines than be the person to take the bullet._

Ellis’s gaze moved over their face. “What is it?” they murmured.

“Um…” Finn’s eyes flicked to the puzzle on the coffee table. Barely even the outside edge was finished. On the box was a picture of a desk, covered in lovely writing utensils and leather notebooks, smudged with ink. Really crafty stuff. Edrissa had picked it out for them from a store in Crayton.

But Finn had always wanted the fight. They’d emerged from Gavin’s warehouse with a head injury, but was otherwise unscathed. And… and _Colleen’s fucking nightmare castle…_ They’d emerged from that with nothing but a brand. Their hand wrapped around their right forearm, over the bandage that Vera had placed after slicing the brand until it was beyond recognition almost two weeks ago.

When the team had disappeared into Colleen’s murder house, Gavin’s cane marks had been opened again, Isaac had been caned and burned and cut and beaten again, _Sam_ nearly lost their fucking arm, Tori was lost in her own head more often than not… and all Finn came away with… was a fucking _brand._

They wet their lips. Their eyes focused again, and they saw Ellis staring at them, a little wrinkle between their eyebrows. Finn bent forward and kissed the worry line. When they leaned back again, Ellis’s worried expression was still frozen in place.

“Um…” Finn chewed their lip again. “I… I know.”

“So…” Ellis swallowed hard. Finn’s heart broke as they looked at the uncertainty behind Ellis’s eyes, the worry that came not just from concern about the baby. “Will you, um… will you… come with me?”

Finn’s stomach dropped, and the air rushed out of their lungs like they’d been punched. _“Ellis—”_

“I know there’s so much work to be done,” Ellis said softly. They pressed their lips together, although Finn could see them trembling. “There’s so many people to save. DFS is an evil motherfucker, and he needs to be stopped. But…” Ellis’s face hardened. Their jaw set. Their eyes flashed. “Sorry, but nothing is worth risking this baby for. Are you coming with me?”

Beneath the fierceness, the anger, there fluttered a terrible, wounded vulnerability. Ellis looked up at Finn, their eyes still brimming tears. Ellis bit down hard on their lip.

Finn leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to their lips. “Yeah,” they said gently. “I am. They’re my baby, too. And… you’re my fucking _family._ ”

Ellis whined softly against Finn’s lips. They pulled Finn down on top of them and clutched at them, holding them tight against their chest, as they pressed the kiss deeper.

“We could move into that little cottage down the road,” Ellis sighed. Finn’s hand went to cup Ellis’s face, then slid down their neck, over their shoulder, down their side until they pressed their fingers into Ellis’s hip. “It’s like a ten-minute walk, but far enough that we have plausible deniability. It’s kind of a shithole but the others would help. We…” Ellis gasped as Finn pulled them hard against them. “We just need to tell the others.”

The back door swung open. Finn groaned and pressed their forehead against Ellis’s. Then they extricated themself from Ellis’s embrace and sat up. Ellis pushed themself up to sitting and pulled their knees into their chest. A faint blush burned on their cheeks.

At least they had some color now.

Gray, Zachariah, Edrissa, and Sam all filed into the kitchen. Zachariah carried an armload of zucchini – or some kind of squash, Finn didn’t actually know – and set them on the counter. Edrissa carried two fistful of leafy herbs. Sam and Gray followed behind, holding a bowl of fresh string beans each.

Finn’s stomach grumbled. “Are we having all of that for dinner?”

“No,” Edrissa said with a light glare. “What dish that you know of combines all these things?”

“Fuck, I don’t know how to cook,” Finn grumbled under their breath. Gray put the bowl of string beans down on the counter and came into the living room.

“How are you feeling?” they said gently to Ellis, and sat at a couch next to theirs. “Still nauseated?”

Ellis shrugged weakly. “A little. I don’t think I have anything left to throw up.”

“Let me make you some tea!” Edrissa called from the kitchen. She darted to a cabinet and pulled down a tin with _for Ellis_ scrawled across it in Edrissa’s handwriting.

The corner of Gray’s mouth pulled up as they looked at Edrissa. As she went to the drawer that held the tea strainer, Zachariah shuffled to the stove and grabbed the kettle. He filled it in the sink and put it back on the stove. He glanced at Edrissa as he lit the burner. Edrissa flushed and scooped out a tablespoon of dried herbs with the tea strainer.

Gray turned back to look at Finn. “The trip into town go alright?”

“No Zofran,” Finn said flatly. “But the rizatriptan is in. Hopefully no more migraines for Gavin.”

“That would be ideal,” Gray said dryly as they rubbed their forehead.

Finn glanced at Ellis. They looked back at them, their eyebrows pulled together, their mouth pressed into a painful smile. Finn reached out and laced their fingers through Ellis’s.

Ellis nodded once. “Gray… we should… probably tell you, um, something.”

Gray lifted their head and met Ellis’s gaze. A flicker of fear passed over their face, made all the more creased with stress and worry. Finn swallowed, their stomach burning faintly with guilt.

“Um…” Ellis nervously rubbed their thumb over the top of Finn’s hand, mirroring the motion Finn had made a few minutes before. “We… we would like to move out.”

Gray’s eyes went wide. They sat back slowly and folded their hands in their lap. Their eyes slowly unfocused. Finn chewed their lip and waited for Gray to speak.

Gray wet their lips and slowly opened their mouth. “I… understand,” they said, finally.

Finn blew out a slow breath and looked up to see Sam and Edrissa standing in the window of the kitchen, looking out with identical expressions of hurt on their faces. Zachariah stood behind them, his arms crossed across his chest, looking nervously between them all.

“We love you, so much,” Ellis said in a rush. “We love this family. Gray, I’ve been with you for, for _seven years._ ” They gave a weak laugh. “And I’d die for any of you. But… with DFS doing his bullshit…” Their hand drifted again over their belly, as if they could hold off the world with only that. “…I _can’t_ risk my baby. There’s a cottage just a bit down the road. We’ll visit all the time. But at the end of the day, when DFS comes knocking, because he _will_ …” Ellis raised their shoulders jerkily in a painful-looking shrug. “…I can’t let this one get hurt. I… I…” Ellis’s chest heaved in a shaky breath, then another, then another. “I thought Finn was dead. I lost my family once already. And I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

Gray quickly stood and crossed to Ellis. They crouched in front of them, joints creaking as their knees bent, and pulled Ellis into their arms. Ellis shivered and clutched at Gray. They breathed hard against their shoulder, their fingers digging into Gray’s shirt, as Finn rubbed slow circles on their back.

“I absolutely understand,” Gray said, their voice pitched low.

Finn leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ellis’s shoulder. They drew in a slow, deep breath, and felt Ellis doing the same. They smiled.

“This is your baby. You protect your family, above all else.” Gray leaned back and their lips curved up in a watery smile. “Besides. You’re thirty-five years old. Plenty old enough to be moving out of the house.”

Ellis playfully smacked Gray’s shoulder, barely hard enough to even make a sound. “Fair enough.”

Gray took both of Ellis’s hands in theirs and squeezed. “This baby deserves all the protection in the world. I think it _would_ be safer for them to be distanced from this…” They threw a glance at Zachariah where he stood in the kitchen. “…operation.”

Ellis nodded jerkily. Their eyes shone with tears. “Thank you for understanding.”

Gray leaned forward and pulled them both into a hug this time. “Of _course_ I do,” they said softly.

“They’ll be your first grandchild,” Ellis said in a small voice.

Gray shuddered and squeezed Finn and Ellis tighter. Finn could feel Gray trembling, and they swore they heard Gray sniffle. When Gray pulled back, their eyes were red. _“Oh,”_ they whispered.

Ellis wiped their eyes on their shirt. “You’ll have to think of what you want them to call you,” they said softly.

Gray let out a sort of twisted whine and smiled wide, showing a toothy grin. “I’ll give it some thought,” they said. Their voice broke. “Never thought that would, um… h-happen.” They drew their hand over their face.

“Yeah, me neither,” Ellis whispered.

The three of them burst out in half-laughter, half-sobs. Gray squeezed Ellis’s hands once more and stood. They groaned and rubbed at their knee. They straightened and rolled their eyes. “I’m certainly _old_ enough to be a grandparent.”

Ellis grimaced. “Don’t say old.”

Gray tilted their head in concession. “Fine,” they said with a laugh. “I’m a fifty-three-year-old spring chicken.”

“Speaking of chicken, what’s for dinner?” Finn said, looking towards the chicken.

Ellis shot upright and gagged weakly. They smacked their hand over their mouth and dashed from the room. They disappeared down the hallway, and Finn could hear the weak sound of them retching into the toilet. Edrissa’s mouth puckered. She turned to the stove and stared at the kettle as it came to a boil.

Finn bit their lip. “What… what was it?” they said weakly. “They did okay with chicken yesterday—”

“I think it’s just the mention of food,” Gray said. They stared into the hallway with Finn. “This is just… a rough pregnancy for them.”

“It shouldn’t be Rh incompatibility,” Finn said as they wrung their hands. “We’re the same blood type. They checked at—”

“I think it’s the stress,” Gray said softly. “They…” They blew out a slow breath through their lips. “You _all_ have survived… a lot.”

In the kitchen, the kettle began to whistle.


	3. Chapter 3

As the kettle came to a boil, Zachariah whistled softly, matching the tone the kettle was making. Edrissa snatched up a potholder and turned off the burner as she took the kettle off the stove. As Sam turned to get a mug for Ellis from the cabinet, Zachariah was already there, pulling one down.

_How does he already know the kitchen so well? It took me a week to—_

_I guess he’s been here a week. Huh._

Sam’s mind spun. It didn’t feel like it had been a week. It felt as if Zachariah had arrived a month ago – or yesterday.

Time was strange up here. Sam didn’t need the pain medication as much anymore, so their mind was usually clear, able to think past the pills and the pain. They spent as much time outside as they could. Edrissa seemed to be constantly pushing them outside, urging them out into the fresh air – and then coming with them, lacing her fingers through theirs, walking the lake and pulling them behind trees for furtive kisses. No one was up here to see, but Sam liked it.

Sam liked everything about it up here. The air was cool and crisp, and the sun rose _so early,_ warming their skin with its rays, seeming to melt the jagged edges of their pain. At night, they slept in a warm, soft bed, with the lights off, so unlike the cold, hard concrete and constant hum of the fluorescent light that lit their cell in Colleen Stormbeck’s house. They could stand to go without the sling sometimes, gently moving their arm in guided motions with Finn’s help, slowly bringing the strength back.

They didn’t think about how they still couldn’t move the fingers on their right hand, and couldn’t feel a good deal of their arm. They were getting stronger. And they were safe.

Sam turned to the fridge to reach for the milk – and Zachariah was already there, too, pulling out the bottle that they would bring to Burmingham for refilling once they ran out. For a moment, Sam felt a prickle of irritation, a wash of frustration _._ They bit their lip and caught Zachariah’s gaze.

“I can do that,” they said softly, trying so, so hard to keep the hurt out of their voice. They made themself smile. “You don’t have to do everything.”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide and he pressed his lips into a line. Edrissa took the milk out of his hand, outstretched and frozen in front of him. He stared at the floor and swallowed loudly.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not trying to… to do everything. I know you can do it. I just…” He slowly retracted his hand and curled it into a fist. “I just want to… to _help._ To help you.”

Zachariah raised his gaze to Sam, and Sam felt a flutter in their stomach at the light brown eyes meeting theirs. He couldn’t be much older than they were. They remembered, faintly, in flashes, him carrying them down the stairs from the Stormbeck house, how he’d screamed just before Sam was shot. And he was…

He was _pretty._

Sam shook their head and cleared their throat. “Um. Oh. Thank you.”

Zachariah wrapped his arms around his chest. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, um… to do stuff for you. I just want to help.”

Sam could hear the meaning under the words: _I just want to make things right._

Sam glanced at Edrissa where she stood behind Zachariah, the cup of tea held tight in her hand. She was staring at Zachariah with an unreadable expression on her face. She blinked and walked out of the kitchen with the tea. Ellis had returned from the bathroom, looking pale, their skin gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, the circles under their eyes darker than before. They took the tea with a grateful glance at Edrissa. Finn rubbed distracted circles into their back as Gray stared at the floor, their face torn between expressions of joy and worry. Ellis held the cup to their lips. They didn’t take a sip.

Sam chewed their lip and turned back to the kitchen. Zachariah was staring over the counter into the living room, his eyes fixed on Edrissa and Ellis.

“H-how did you do it?” he whispered.

Sam blinked. “What?”

Zachariah’s throat worked and he brought tear-filled eyes to theirs. “How did you… _survive?_ ”

A twinge of pain shot down Sam’s arm, lighting up the inside of their arm, their forearm, their hand, with fire. They hissed in a breath through their teeth and clutched at the wound with their left hand. It didn’t help.

This was the only time they could feel those parts of their arm anymore: when the pain burst through them, when it felt like their arm was being held down in a pot of boiling water. Sam slowly pushed a breath out through their lips. The pain was already fading, like it always did. The feeling of a shock of electricity was ebbing away, leaving the inside of their forearm, and the palm of their hand, numb once again. Sam shivered at the sudden dampness of their skin. They threw a glance into the living room, but Finn was looking at Ellis with their near-perpetual look of worry. Sam breathed out a meager sigh of relief.

They raised their gaze to Zachariah. He was staring back at them, his gaze fixed on their arm, his hands slightly outstretched.

“Are… are you alright?” he rasped.

“Y-yeah,” Sam breathed, and pulled their hand away from the wound.

“Is that…?” Zachariah wet his lips and drew in a deep breath. “I c-can’t believe that bullet didn’t kill you. I thought…” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“I was very lucky,” Sam said tightly. Zachariah opened his eyes to look at them. “Both with where the bullet hit me… and the fact that I had Finn.” They looked into the living room and watched as Finn laced their fingers through Ellis’s and squeezed. 

Edrissa appeared at their side, and they jumped slightly. The motion sent a wave of pain through their arm – but it wasn’t unbearable. It didn’t feel like a knife going through their flesh, or a flame held against their skin. It was a pinch of soreness. Nothing more. They heaved a sigh of relief.

Edrissa brushed her lips against Sam’s cheek and squeezed their hand once before she turned and went to the fridge. Sam’s stomach burned at how Zachariah watched them both with reddened cheeks. Their gaze moved over him, lingering on his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest, on the dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes that had only just begun to fade. 

“Hey, Sam?” Edrissa said from the fridge.

Sam blinked. They glanced at Edrissa where she stood framed by the light from the fridge, the edges of her hair lit up like they were on fire. There was a warm, fluttery feeling in their chest as she smiled at them and beckoned them over. 

“Come help me with this,” she said with a grin. Her lips were pressed flat, her eyes lit with a mischievous gleam. They were across the kitchen before they realized their legs were moving. Just as they drew to her side, their hand already outstretched to rest gently on her arm, she whirled and dabbed a bit of whipped cream onto the tip of their nose. 

Edrissa leaped away with a squeak as Sam stood frozen beside the fridge, blinking slowly, letting their mind catch up with what just happened. The whipped cream was cold on their skin. They stuck out their tongue and licked at it, savoring the sweetness on their tongue. 

Finally, they turned and fixed Edrissa with a playful glare. She giggled and held her hands to her mouth, shuffling backwards. Sam turned and glanced into the fridge, eyeing the large ceramic bowl of whipped cream, partially covered by the plate Edrissa had pushed aside. They scooped their left hand in and turned with their entire hand covered in whipped cream. 

Edrissa shrieked and dashed to the other side of the kitchen, throwing open cabinets, searching for her own weapon. She finally emerged with a large baking sheet that she held out in front of her like a shield. 

Zachariah’s eyes darted between the two of them, his hands held out as if he was going to try to ward both of them off. 

Sam grinned. They could see the whipped cream still on their nose at the edge of their vision. They lunged forward and drew a stripe of whipped cream across Zachariah’s cheek. 

As they stumbled back, they were aware of Edrissa’s eyes on them, how her gaze moved between him and them. They flushed as Zachariah slowly, distractedly wiped the whipped cream from his face, and then licked his fingers clean. 

Everyone was still for a moment.

Then, Sam turned and snatched the heavy bowl of whipped cream from the fridge. Their left hand made smears of cream on the outside of the bowl. They plunged their right hand in, shivering at how one side of their fingers could feel the cool, soft, sticky texture of it, and the other side felt nothing at all. 

Edrissa let out a high-pitched peal of laughter and darted behind Zachariah for protection. His eyes went wide as she leapt onto his back and wound her arms around his neck. 

_“Get the whipped cream!”_ she cried, and held the baking sheet out in front of them both. 

Sam lunged forward and swiped weakly at Edrissa with their whipped-cream-covered hand. Zachariah jumped away, just as Edrissa brought up the baking sheet to block. Sam realized with a start that they could move their injured arm without agony, without the stab of pain that had gripped them over and over since they’d arrived north. Their arm was weak, and Sam could feel the strain of muscles that hadn’t been used in over a month, but they could _move it._

“Hey, no fair!” they said with a laugh. “I can barely move my arm and there are _two_ of you!”

“You have a whole bowl of whipped cream,” Zachariah said tentatively, standing like a deer in the headlights with Edrissa hanging on his back. 

Sam chewed their lip as they regarded the two, a subtle heat moving under their skin as their gaze moved over them both. Edrissa’s light blonde hair was wild around her face, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling with something Sam had caught glimpses of on their walks together. Zachariah’s eyes caught Sam’s, and his muscles moved under the shirt he was wearing. He scooped his hands under Edrissa’s legs to hold her up until she wrapped them tightly around his waist. 

Sam’s cheeks flushed as they imagined, just for a moment, how it might feel to be between them, to feel all their hands on them at once, kissing Edrissa… and maybe going a bit further than that with Zachariah…

Sam grinned. It seemed like Edrissa was maybe getting that idea, too.

They walked to the opposite side of the kitchen and put the bowl down on the counter – but not before they dipped their left hand in again, and emerged with a gigantic handful of whipped cream. 

“Come and get it,” Sam said with a smile.

“Oh, we will,” Edrissa said, her eyebrows pulled together in a look that Sam figured was supposed to be _menacing._ On her, it just looked goofy, and they just longed to kiss her until she was laughing again. 

Zachariah took a slow, plodding step forward, his lips pulled into a smile. “Better watch out, Sam,” he said, grinning. 

“Or what?” Sam shot back, also taking a step forward, the handful of whipped cream held out threateningly in front of them. 

“Or _else,_ ” Edrissa said. Zachariah took another step forward. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sam yelled, holding their hand aloft. They charged at Edrissa and Zachariah. 

_“Nooooo!”_ Edrissa cried, holding out the baking sheet and blocking Sam’s first attempt. Zachariah jumped back and dodged the second, as Sam swiped at his nose. Sam was backing the two of them into a corner. Heat curled in their chest as they thought about what they might get to _do_ when they won.

“Zachariah!” Edrissa said, brandishing the baking sheet. “Get the whipped cream!” 

Zachariah leapt past Sam, just escaping the whipped cream on their hand. He skidded to a stop on the wood floor and bumped into the counter. Edrissa leaned down and snatched up the bowl of whipped cream, triumphantly holding it aloft with both hands. 

“I got it!” she shrieked. Sam lunged forward, both arms outstretched, ready to absolutely _cover_ the two of them in whipped cream.

Zachariah moved to the side. Edrissa lurched sideways, not able to catch herself with her hands busy holding up the bowl. The bowl slipped from her hands. 

As if in slow motion, Sam watched the bowl tumble to the floor, a little dollop of cream spilling over the side in a wave. The bowl shattered against the floor. 


	4. Chapter 4

The pieces of the bowl shattered across the kitchen. Sam didn’t have time to blink before one drove into their leg, just below their knee. They gasped at the bite of pain and stumbled backwards. Their foot landed on another shard and they staggered back, blindly, and tripped over their own feet.

They toppled over and fell directly onto their injured arm.

Pain exploded through them, sharp as a knife, knocking them loose in their own mind. Their lungs were being crushed in their chest. They struggled to breathe around the pain that twisted inside them, choking them.

They struggled to breathe around the collar around their neck.

They fumbled blindly for their arm, feeling for the blood, for the pain, for the _lack_ of pain that radiated across their hand, their forearm. There was no numbness now. It was all fire. It was all agony. There were no bones left, no muscles, no skin. There were only nerves, and they were nothing but pain.

Their throat was raw before they realized the sound they heard tearing through their ears was the sound of their own scream. Their eyes rolled back and they twitched on the floor, chest heaving, skin damp with sweat, holding their arm tight to their side and shuddering at the pain that crashed over them in unbearable waves.

“S-Sam?”

“Sam, are you—”

They trembled and wailed against the floor. The pain spiked and sunk claws into their brain, pushing everything else out. Pushing out the knowledge of where they were, of who they were.

There was nothing but pain. Just like when they’d been shot.

_Was I shot?_

Sam writhed against the cool, hard floor, twisting against the pain, trying desperately to push it away, to _breathe._ They felt hands on them, in their hair, on their shoulders, pushing them up and leaning them back against something. Blonde hair flashed before them, and dark skin, and hazel eyes, a kaleidoscope of faces and colors and voices. None of it made sense. They gagged against the pain.

“Sam. _Shit._ ”

“Oh, oh god, Sam… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…!”

“Get my kit. Did they hit their head?”

“U-um, um, I—”

“Edrissa. Did they hit their head when they fell?”

“I d-don’t think so… Zachariah…?”

“Um… n-no. I didn’t… see them hit their head.”

“Okay. Edrissa, go get my kit. You know where it is. My room, under the bed.”

Sam panted as fire poured into their arm. They grasped at it and sobbed against the hard surface they leaned against. They blinked their eyes open – _when did they close?_ – and found Finn. Their face was drawn, lines carved around their eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there… before. Before…

“F-Finn,” they croaked. Tears were wet on their cheeks. “Finn…”

“I’m here, Sam. You just hurt your arm. You’re alright. Can you—”

Sam sobbed and leaned their head back against the wall behind them, shivering against the cold that crept into their body while their arm blazed with agony.

Colleen wanted their pain, and she took it, every day.

“F-Finn, Finn, can you fix it, please, please…?” Sam’s eyes streamed with tears.

“Working on it,” Finn mumbled.

Finn was given ten minutes to fix them up, then they’d be dragged back to their own cell to be chained to the wall again.

A guard knelt beside Finn, wearing only a t-shirt and pants, no vest, no belt, no knife, no gun. Sam blinked their confusion and turned their head away.

_This one hasn’t hurt me yet, but he will._

Finn looked over their shoulder at someone and pulled their kit to their side. Sam looked at Finn, only at Finn, desperate and sick and sobbing with the pain.

Finn gently pulled Sam’s sleeve up to reveal the wound on their arm. _They shot me. The guards shot me. Please, Finn, please please fix it before they take you away and chain me to the wall again…_ Their hand drifted up and they reached for the collar around their neck. Their fingers brushed bare skin. They shivered.

Sam groaned as Finn pushed gently against Sam’s arm, their fingers sure and light as they moved.

“Don’t feel any breaks. You may have torn something inside.” Finn’s voice was rough as sandpaper.

“P-please, Finn,” Sam begged, arching back against the cold cement wall behind them. “Pl-please, please, please, please make it numb again, please, Finn, give me something to make it numb again…” Their tongue stuttered over the words. Their lips were numb.

Finn blanched where they crouched in front of Sam. “Wh-what?” they breathed.

“M-make my hand numb again, _please_ …”

Finn’s hand trembled on Sam’s shoulder. “Make your… your hand…”

The guard kneeling beside Finn looked away. He had a nice face. He was waiting for Finn to finish fixing Sam up, giving them time, instead of laughing from outside the bars of the cell door. He was giving Finn time to fix Sam before he dragged Finn away, to be chained again, so Sam would have to listen to the sounds of their family sobbing while they shuddered with pain…

Finn still stared at Sam with a horrified expression on their face. Sam blinked tears out of their eyes and their vision cleared, still fuzzy at the edges, still spinning around them, colors and light pressing down into their eyes, against their skin, so _bright_ for the cold, dim gray of their cell.

As they cast their gaze around the room – it was unfamiliar, but then, most of the rooms in this house were – their heart stuttered and sank in their chest. A bitter curl of terror twisted in their stomach, and they heaved forward with a desperate sob.

In the doorway of the room stood Gavin Stormbeck.

∴

Isaac heard the crash, and that made him look up towards the house where he sat outside, Gavin beside him, just being together in the sun.

He heard the scream that came after, and that made him leap to his feet.

Gavin was up, too, in an instant.

The breeze played with the hair at the back of Isaac’s neck, and he shivered in the warm afternoon sun as he stumbled forward, not even aware that he was moving, only aware that he had to go find Sam – because he knew it was Sam, he shuddered to realize that he’d recognize the sound of their screaming anywhere – and stop whatever it was that was hurting them. The long grass swished under his feet as he rushed to the back door, the grass that Edrissa had asked Gray not to cut, because it was so nice to lay on, so nice to see the imprints of where the family was lying after they got up—

Isaac threw the back door open and rushed in, Gavin right on his heels. He dashed through the laundry room and skidded to a stop on the wood floor of the kitchen as he took in the scene in front of him.

The floor was absolutely covered in what looked like whipped cream. It looked like an explosion had gone off. Shards of a bowl littered the floor. Blood was smeared on the floor in a trail that led to—

Just as he saw Sam, they turned their head and looked up at him. Their eyes widened in what looked like terror when they saw him.

No, not him. When they saw _Gavin._

“P-please,” Sam whispered, not even seeming to register Finn’s touch now.

Isaac was across the room in an instant. “Sam,” he croaked, reaching out to touch their leg before he realized their pant leg was stained with a thin line of blood just below their knee. “Oh, _shit._ Sam…?”

“We were just playing,” Edrissa whimpered, standing back and covering her mouth with her hands. Zachariah stood beside her, his hands held out as if he didn’t know whether to help – or didn’t know whether he could help at all. “We were just… it was an _accident_ …”

“Finn,” Isaac snapped. “What… what’s wrong? What—”

“I don’t know,” Finn rasped, their hands outstretched towards Sam, shaking. “They… Sam, is your hand… _numb…?_ ”

Isaac’s heart plummeted.

“Please,” Sam whimpered. “Please, _please,_ G-Gavin, _no_ …”

Isaac threw a glance over his shoulder and saw Gavin standing in the doorway with tears standing in his eyes and a look of horror on his face.

“Gavin, you don’t… you d-don’t _have_ to, Gavin… I’ll… I’ll t-tell… please, _no_ …”

“Oh, no, oh no, no, no, no…” Gavin whimpered softly. “Oh… _Sam_ …”

Isaac stood and held a hand out to Gavin. “Gavin, just… maybe wait outside, I’ll—”

_“Isaac!”_ Sam cried, arching back against the cabinets. “Isaac, don’t go, _please!_ ”

“I… c-can’t find any, um, s-signs of, of new injury,” Finn said numbly, crouched in front of Sam, their eyes wide. “But… Sam, has your hand b-been numb for… a wh-while?”

“It’s…” Sam sniffled and clutched their arm, their gaze still fixed on Gavin. “It’s been, um, for a while…”

_“What?”_ Finn gasped.

“Finn,” Isaac said with a shaking voice, crouching again and reaching out with shaking hands. He was hollow on the inside, where there was nothing but endless space for Sam’s pain. “What’s wrong with them? What happened?”

“Um…” Finn blinked and swallowed hard, looking around as if they’d forgotten what they were doing. “Um… they f-fell. I think… hurt their arm again. And—”

“S-Sam,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice that he couldn’t smooth out. “Sam, where are you right now? Are y-you… in… C-Colleen’s house?”

“Isaac,” Sam sobbed, and clutched at their arm. “Isaac, _please_ …”

“You’re safe, Sam,” Isaac said. His vision was blurred. He blinked, and tears streamed down his cheeks. His sibling… Sam was suffering again, and it was his—

It was his—

It was his fault.

He shoved the thought away. _This is not about me. This is so far away from being about me._

“Finn,” he rasped. His throat was dry. “Can you…? For the pain, is there something—”

“Vicodin won’t do shit for a while,” Finn snapped. “But it’s what I have.” They already had the bottle out and dumped a pill out into their palm. “I’ll get water. You get them… get them back. Okay? You get them back.” The words were twisted as Finn spat them between their teeth. They stumbled to their feet and stepped back, avoiding the shards of broken bowl.

Isaac swallowed his despair, his guilt. “Sam,” he said softly, cradling their face and turning their head towards him. “Sam, look at me.”

“I-Isaac,” Sam sobbed. “Isaac… he… please, make it stop, I’ll do _anything_ …”

“Shh,” Isaac murmured. He kept their head turned away from the doorway. He could see Gavin still there, in the corner of his eye – Gray was at his side now, gently rubbing his shoulder and pulling him towards the living room. Gavin didn’t move. He was rooted to the spot.

Isaac glanced at Finn. They were by his side again, their shoes squishing in the whipped cream. They crouched in front of Sam.

“Open up, Sam,” they grumbled, and held the pill to Sam’s lips.

“P-please—”

“This will help,” Finn said, and Isaac’s stomach twisted at the pain in their voice.

“Sam,” he said softly, as Finn tapped the pill against Sam’s lips. Sam obediently opened their mouth, the sobs pouring out from between their lips, and took the pill. They held their breath as Finn tipped the glass of water against their lips and helped them take a drink. As the pill went down, Sam gasped and looked to Isaac again.

Isaac wet his lips. “You’re in the north house. Look around and let’s say things we see. Alright? Deep breaths.”

“Isaac,” Sam sobbed, tears rolling down their cheeks. They winced as Finn pulled their pant leg up to check the cut there, but kept their eyes on Isaac. Isaac could have been the only person in the room. The only person in the world. “Please, it hurts…”

“Finn’s helping you,” Isaac murmured. “Take a deep breath, Sam.” He drew in a slow, deep breath, and that pushed away the shroud of numbness he’d cast over his mind as soon as he heard Sam’s scream. Something in him shifted, moved, and his hand tightened on Sam’s leg.

“This won’t need stitches,” Finn mumbled. “Neither will, not the leg or the foot.”

Isaac glanced down. Finn was gently wiping the cut on Sam’s leg with alcohol. They made quick work of cleaning and bandaging Sam’s leg, then their foot, and slumped back, their eyes red-rimmed and unfocused.

Sam panted as they leaned their head back against the cabinets. “Isaac,” they whimpered. “Why… Isaac…” They blinked rapidly and cast their gaze around the room – Isaac noted how Sam’s eyes skipped over Zachariah and lingered on Gavin.

“Deep breath, Sam,” Isaac said, taking both their hands in his now, being careful of their injured arm. “Deep breath. Finn just gave you some medication that should h-help. And… look around, Sam, tell me what you see?”

“I… I s-see…” Sam coughed and whined softly against the pain. “K-kitchen?” Their eyebrows pulled together. “Why… in the kitchen?”

“You’re north, Sam,” Isaac said heavily. “Do you remember…? We made it north. We’ve been north for… a-a month.” They drew in a slow, quavering breath, and he nodded. “There you go, Sam. There you go. Good. Take another deep breath, there you go. Are you with me?”

Sam’s gaze finally returned to Isaac’s. Their lips trembled, and they nodded. “Isaac…” They pulled their hands out of his grasp and gently touched their right hand with their left, their fingers brushing against the skin from front to back and front again… as if feeling the sensation on one side, and the numbness on the other.

“Th-that medication is gonna take a bit longer to kick in,” Finn said flatly. “But… Sam, it looks like the pain is… is a little… better?” The lines on their face looked deeper than they ever had been. “Sam… your hand… wh-why didn’t you… _tell me?_ ”

Sam swallowed hard and wrapped their uninjured hand around their other wrist. “Um… I… I w-was hoping it would… g-get better on its own.”

Finn let out a wordless groan and leaned forward, burying their face in their hands.

Sam bit their lip and whimpered. “F-Finn…”

“We can talk about it later,” Finn whispered. They raised their head. Their eyes were haunted, faded, swimming with tears.

Sam nodded weakly. They raised their gaze to Gavin. He was still standing in the doorway. Isaac doubted anything could have moved him from that spot.

“Gavin,” Sam murmured, their lip trembling. Their face was clouded with… with _guilt,_ why would Sam ever feel guilty? It wasn’t their fault, it was Isaac’s, it was _Isaac’s_ …

He forced down his tears, and forced down the darkness that had settled in his chest again. _I never helped them by thinking that._

Sam cleared their throat. “Gavin, I’m s-sorry…”

“N-no,” he stammered as he fell forward a step. He kicked a piece of bowl and it skittered across the floor. He didn’t seem to notice. “Sam… you don’t ha-have to… _apologize,_ Sam, it’s, it’s okay…”

“I know… you’re not going to hurt me,” Sam rasped, trembling from head to toe. They drew in another breath and whined softly, clutching their arm. “And I’m… I’m… _sorry_.” They blinked and looked at the ceiling, before their gaze drifted to where Edrissa and Zachariah stood. “I… I’m sorry. It was just… a-a game—”

“And it still is,” Gray said from Gavin’s side. “It was a game, and it was fun, and it was an accident that you got hurt, Sam.” Their mouth made a thin line. “It’s no one’s fault.” They cocked an eyebrow, and threw a painful-looking half-smile at Sam, Edrissa, and Zachariah. “Although, I’m wondering if you _knew_ how much I was looking forward to having some of that whipped cream with the berries from the garden for dessert tonight.”

“I’ll make more,” Edrissa whispered, looking away from Sam for the first time to meet Gray’s gaze.

“And I’ll get a mop,” Gray said. They squeezed Gavin’s shoulder, and then went to the supply closet in the living room. “Isaac, if you could get the large pieces of the bowl? I don’t have shoes on.”


	5. Chapter 5

At Finn’s side, Isaac jumped as if he’d been shocked. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled, still staring at Sam. “Sure.” He stood and looked around numbly, as if he’d already forgotten what Gray had asked him to do.

Finn turned their attention back to Sam. They seemed to be doing better now. There was a faint sheen of sweat on their face, and they still clutched at their wrist, but their breathing was slowing down, easing, and their tears were drying on their cheeks. Finn bit their lip as they reached up and wiped Sam’s tears away with their thumbs.

Sam looked behind Finn forlornly as Isaac began to pick up the biggest shards of the shattered bowl. “I guess I won’t be able to get up until that’s clean,” they murmured.

“Yeah,” Finn said distantly. “Probably a good idea to wait until it’s clean, yeah.”

“So I guess…” Sam sniffed. “I guess we should… talk it about it now.” They looked down at their lap.

Finn groaned and moved to Sam’s side, sitting down and leaning back against the cabinets beside them. Whipped cream dried on the bottoms of Finn’s shoes. “We don’t have to, Sam,” they said softly. “We don’t… e-ever have to talk about it, if you, um… don’t…” They trailed off and trembled as a wave of guilt washed over them. They buried their face in their hands.

Sam was silent for a long time. The drying whipped cream under Isaac’s shoes make a tacky sound as he criss-crossed the kitchen picking up pieces of the bowl that seemed to lay in every corner.

“Finn?” Sam said softly. Finn raised their head to look at them. Fresh tears stained their cheeks. “I’m… I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t be, Sam,” Finn said heavily. Edrissa and Zachariah were busy wiping up the whipped cream with towels. Gavin had maneuvered past the mess and into the living room. Finn could hear a bucket being filled with water in the laundry room. “I… understand.”

“But—” Sam bit their lip. “I didn’t want you to find out… like this. I was hoping you’d never have to, um, f-find out at all. I thought… I thought maybe…”

Finn dragged their shoulders up around their ears. “It still might get better, I guess,” they croaked. “If… if it’s caused by, um, by inflammation, or, or s-something like that, then once the, ah, swelling goes down, you might… might get…” Finn looked down at their hands. “I don’t… think…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam whispered.

Finn’s hands slowly curled into fists. “You don’t, um… d-don’t know that, Sam. I could have… while I was, um, fixing you up, I found a nerve that was in the way… I was careful, I was—” Their voice twisted. Their cleared their throat, swallowed against the hot lump there. “I was _so fucking careful._ I thought… I stayed clear of it. I thought I…” They let their head fall back against the cabinets with a _thump._ “I thought I did it _right,_ ” they whispered.

“You did,” Sam said weakly. “I’m… I’m p-pretty sure…” They cleared their throat. “I’m pretty sure the nerve was, um… already messed up. By the bullet.”

Finn’s head snapped forward, and they stared at Sam. “What… do you mean?”

“Um…” Sam’s throat worked, and they swallowed noisily. “I… th-think I remember… even before the surgery, I…” They looked down at their right hand. “It… hurt. In my hand, and right here…” They drew their pointer finger across the inside of their forearm. “All the way up to here.” They gently ran their finger over the inside of their arm, all the way up to the sleeve of their t-shirt. “I… think I remember… feeling like something was wrong.”

Finn stared at Sam. Their heart squeezed painfully in their chest, hope washing through them, flushing the bitter shame out of their veins. “Sam… are you… You’re not just saying that because—”

“No,” Sam said, and met Finn’s eyes. “I’m not.”

Finn slumped back against the cabinets. “Then… then it’s not…” They wet their lips. “Then it’s not… my… fault?”

Edrissa drew near, wiping the floor clean of whipped cream. Sam glanced at her for a moment before they returned their gaze to Finn. “No,” they rasped. “It’s not your fault.”

Finn’s breath rushed out from between their lips, leaving their chest aching. “O-oh,” they murmured. Tears burned in their eyes.

“You did a good job, Finn,” Sam said softly.

“Oh,” Finn said again. They jerked the collar of their shirt up and wiped their eyes. “Oh.” When they dropped their shirt again, Isaac stood over them both.

“Um…” Isaac bit his lip. “We’re about done, Gray just needs to, um, to mop.” Isaac glanced behind him just as Gray walked back into the kitchen carrying a bucket of steaming water and a mop. The smell of lemon washed over Finn, drowning out the sweet smell of the whipped cream.

“Yeah,” Finn mumbled. They pushed themself to their feet. They glanced up to see Ellis standing at the counter, looking in from the living room. Their hands were locked on the counter and their gaze was concerned and fixed on Sam. Gavin stood beside them, looking stricken. Ellis didn’t even seem to notice him.

Finn blinked and reached down for Sam. Sam took their hand, and Finn pulled Sam to their feet. Sam wobbled, holding their injured foot up, and looked across the expanse of the kitchen floor towards the hallway to the bedrooms.

“I… can, can hop, but I’ll get the floor all whipped-cream-y,” Sam said, glancing at the foot they were balanced on. Whipped cream clung to the sides of their foot.

“I can carry you,” Isaac said at Finn’s shoulder. His voice was pitched low, his gaze moving over Sam’s clothes. Sam chewed their lip and nodded once.

Finn suddenly burst out laughing as they realized Sam was covered in whipped cream from head to toe. They bent forward at the waist, cackling and gasping for air. “Oh my… how did you three even… manage to _make_ this mess?” they wheezed, holding their side. “How… holy _shit?_ ”

“We won, though,” Edrissa said quietly, standing by Zachariah by the sink, scrubbing the bottom of her foot with a wet towel.

“Yeah, because there were _two of you!_ ” Sam cried, scandalized, their eyes wide in a look of mock hurt. “It wasn’t _fair!_ ”

“You can discuss the legality of their win once the kitchen is all cleaned up,” Gray said with a smile, dipping the mop into the bucket of steaming water and whatever it was that smelled like lemon. They wrung out the mop and let it fall to the floor with a _smack._

“And once _I’m_ cleaned up, too,” Sam said. They wiped at their face, where a streak of whipped cream was now drying. “I need a shower. Holy crap.”

Gray laid a towel down on a clean patch of floor at the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “Here, Isaac,” they said. “Take off your shoes here as you take them to the bathroom. Finn, you need to wipe your feet there, too. Unless you’d like to wipe down the cabinets.”

Finn blinked and realized there were spatters of whipped cream on the cabinets closest to where the bowl had fallen. “Damn,” they breathed. “Sure, I’ll help with the cabinets.”

Finn turned as the front door opened and watched Tori and Vera step into the house.

Tori froze as she saw everyone standing in the kitchen, covered in various degrees with whipped cream. Vera was right behind her carrying two canvas bags. She glanced at Tori and followed her gaze into the kitchen. Her eyebrows slowly pulled together.

“Uh… what’d I miss?”

“Edrissa and Zachariah cheated,” Sam grumbled good-naturedly.

“ _She_ jumped on _my_ back,” Zachariah said, his gaze flicking between Sam and Edrissa. “As you’ll recall, I wanted no part on this. I only wanted to save myself.” He pressed his lips together, but a smile still pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I am merely a casualty of war.”

“Did you use up all the whipped cream?” Tori gasped. “What… no!”

“I told Gray I would make more!” Edrissa protested.

“We leave for two hours, and the whole house goes to shit,” Vera muttered as she set the bags on the floor and bent down to tug off her shoes.

“What’d you bring us?” Ellis said as they made their way from the counter back to the couch. Gavin remained at the counter, glancing at Sam every now and then, but mostly keeping his gaze down. Ellis shrugged. “I hope you had more luck than Finn did.”

Finn’s heart twinged. _Maybe Crayton could get the nausea meds sooner._ _I wonder if I should call their general store…?_

“Made some inquiries in Burmingham,” Vera said as she bent to pick up the bags. “They didn’t get any apples this week, which makes them think there was a disturbance in the southwest supply lines. No news yet about who’s taking over the western sector.” She walked over to the kitchen and stopped at the towel Gray had laid down in the walkway from the living room. “Do I need a password?” she said sardonically, and cocked an eyebrow at Gray.

Gray snorted. “The password is, ‘I don’t want my socks getting sticky.’ I’ll take the bags.” They leaned the mop against the counter and took the bags from Vera’s hands. They set them on the counter and picked up the mop again. Vera wandered into the living room. “Isaac, Finn, this would be the ideal time to leave the kitchen.”

Isaac nodded and looked to Sam. “Ready?” he said softly. Pain flickered in his eyes, tightened in his mouth.

They met his gaze and nodded. “Sure.”

Isaac bent and let Sam wrap their arm around his neck. He gently lifted Sam in his arms and didn’t even seem to notice the whipped cream smearing on his own shirt. He walked with Sam to the towel and kicked off his sticky shoes. He disappeared with them down the hall. Isaac came back around the corner with an armload of Sam’s clothes. After a moment, Finn heard the sound of water rushing through the pipes.

“These need to be washed, I guess,” Isaac said as he stopped at the towel that now served to bar entry to anyone with clean feet. He held out the clothes. “Here are these, I can go grab them some clean ones from their room.”

“Your shirt has whipped cream all over it,” Vera said from the couch, where she sat with her arm around Tori’s shoulders.

Isaac glanced down. “Oh,” he said, and pulled at the hem. “How… This got _everywhere,_ Jesus,” he huffed. He dropped Sam’s clothes onto the towel and pulled his own shirt in one fluid motion.

Everyone in the house seemed to go silent at once. Isaac stared at the shirt in his hand as if dumbfounded at what he’d just done. His scars shone white against his skin, crossing his chest, his arms, his back. He shivered and folded his arms across his chest. A flush crept up his neck.

Finn couldn’t even remember the last time Isaac had had his shirt off around the others. It certainly hadn’t been since he’d been captured by Gavin – almost exactly a year ago, now.

Gray took the shirt from Isaac’s hand and let it fall onto the small pile of Sam’s clothes. “Thank you, Isaac,” they said casually, as if nothing had happened. “We’ll get these in the wash.”

Isaac blinked and took a step back. “Yeah… okay, thanks, Gray,” he murmured. He turned and disappeared down the hall towards the bedrooms. When he emerged again, he had a long-sleeved shirt on. He went to Gavin’s side at the counter and pulled him close. Isaac pressed his lips to Gavin’s forehead, his gaze unfocused.

Edrissa all but materialized in front of Finn, holding a towel. _That girl walks so quietly, I swear to god…_ Finn shivered as they realized why it might have suited Edrissa to learn to walk so quietly in the first place. They wet the towel at the sink and began to scrub the whipped cream from the cabinets.

Gray carried the mop to the far corner of the kitchen and began to clean the floor of the last of the sticky residue. Edrissa grabbed the small pile of clothes, and the large pile of sticky towels, and took them into the laundry room to start a load of laundry in the washing machine.

_A washing machine. I’ve never even had one of those before._

Finn cleaned the cabinets, and Gray mopped the floor, dipping the mop back into the bucket, squeezing it out, wiping the floor clean again. The whole room smelled of lemon, now.

Finn finished with the cabinets and took off their shoes to avoid tracking the whipped cream any further into the house. Gray got all the traces of whipped cream off the floor and took the mop and bucket back into the laundry room to be cleaned out.

Sam wandered back into the living room, limping slightly on their injured foot. Finn practically leapt forward to help them before Sam held out a hand.

“I’m good,” they said softly. “And I, um, figured out how to take the bandages off and put them back on once I was clean.” They lifted their head and grinned at Finn and Isaac in turn.

“Oh,” Finn said, and a smile spread slowly across their face. “That’s… geez, Sam, you trying to force me out of the job?”

“Oh, I gave you a run for your money,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Hey, um, Sam?” Edrissa said softly from the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed red. “Do you and Zachariah, um… want to help me make more?”

Sam’s grin widened. “You bet,” they said, and limped back into the kitchen.

Edrissa pointed to a high shelf. “Zachariah, could you…? The big bowl.”

Zachariah smiled gently, and reached up to get the bowl Edrissa was pointing at.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: explicit consensual sexual acts

Vera sighed as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Even though she had just brushed her teeth, she could still almost taste the sweetness of the whipped cream and berries she and the rest of the family had had for dessert tonight. Vera turned to face Tori, and her gaze moved over Tori’s face. Their room was lit only by the lamp on Tori’s nightstand, and it cast a golden light over Tori’s brown skin that made her look… perfect. Divine. Like an angel, or a goddess, or a dream. Vera licked her lips and smiled as she met Tori’s gaze.

She forced her eyes to stay on Tori’s, instead of drifting down to the two small scars on Tori’s neck where the prongs of the shock collar had pressed in. Tori’s eyes were bright tonight, focused, and they stared right back at Vera. Vera swallowed hard as her hand left the doorknob. Her lips pulled tentatively into a smile.

“What?” Tori said softly, a smile creeping across her face, too.

Vera shrugged and wrapped her arms around her chest. “Nothing.”

_Nothing. You’re beautiful. You’re amazing. And you’re looking at me like I’m really here, and that’s all I want right now._

Tori held out her hand to Vera. Vera took a slow step forward, then another, until her hand slid into Tori’s and squeezed. Tori gazed up at her with shining eyes, near-black in the dim light, her curls catching the light around her head. Her hair was just starting to shine again, after it had gone dull and tangled while she was locked in Colleen’s cell, after Gavin and Colleen had gripped her hair over and over to drag her around, hold her down as she convulsed against the shocks. The bruises around Tori’s wrists had faded. Her eyes were shining. The marks on her neck were completely healed.

“I’m really here, you know,” Tori said softly.

Vera’s mouth went dry. “I… I know.” She squeezed Tori’s hand again. “I know that.”

Tori chewed her lip. “I… I know I… haven’t been.”

“It’s not your fault,” Vera said quickly, desperate to see Tori smile again. She sat beside Tori on the bed.

Tori’s mouth twisted. “I, um, I know.” She nodded slowly as her eyes unfocused.

“Um…” Vera’s thumb moved nervously back and forth across the back of Tori’s hand. “I was just, um… looking at you. You’re beautiful.”

Tori’s eyes focused, and her lips pulled into a shy smile again. Impulsively, Vera leaned forward and kissed her.

Tori made a small surprised noise, and Vera pulled back before Tori’s hands settled on either side of Vera’s face. Tori gently pulled Vera forward, and pressed her lips to Vera’s again.

Vera groaned gently and grasped Tori’s waist to pull her closer. She could feel Tori’s warmth through her shirt. She slipped her hands up under the hem and pressed her fingertips into Tori’s skin.

Tori ran her tongue gently against Vera’s bottom lip, and sighed. Vera’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She knew she had no right to ask it, after Tori had taken all the pain the three weeks they were in Colleen’s house, and for nearly a year Vera had been the one to push Tori away when all she could feel was Joseph’s hands on her waist, her legs, her throat – but she wanted Tori. Desperately.

Her lips trembled on Tori’s. “Um…”

“I had an idea,” Tori said softly against Vera’s lips. Vera’s stomach flipped nervously. “Can… can you…”

Vera leaned back and met Tori’s gaze. “Um, yeah,” she said. “What do you need?”

“Can you…?” Tori flushed. Vera leaned back farther, and her gaze danced over Tori’s face. Her heart fluttered as Tori bit her lip again. “Um… can you get, um, go get the bowl of whipped cream?”

Vera couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face, before it fell a moment later. “Oh. I, uh… I think we used it all with dessert, babe.”

“We didn’t,” Tori said, her blush deepening. “I set aside some. The small blue bowl, next to the milk.”

Vera stumbled to her feet. “And that won’t… hurt your stomach? I can’t remember what Finn said about—”

“My stomach will be fine,” Tori said, smiling gently. “I know you’re just trying to take care of me. It’ll be fine. Besides.” She shrugged. “ _Eating_ it wasn’t really going to be the point.”

Vera’s cheeks burned. “You got it. An order of whipped cream, coming right up.” She pulled the door open and padded down the hallway.

She ran her hands up and down her pajama pants, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. She pushed down her hope, her want, crushed it down into a sharp point inside her chest. _She might just want to have some whipped cream in bed. She might just be hungry. She might not want…_

Vera bit her lip as she crossed through the empty living room. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled the door open.

Just like Tori said, there was a small ceramic bowl of whipped cream, covered by a plate. Vera smiled as she took the bowl from the refrigerator and walked quickly back to their room. She couldn’t help but smile as she passed another room, just barely caught the sound of a sighing breath behind the door. She walked further down the hall, to her and Tori’s room. She pushed the door open and closed it behind her, the soft smile still on her lips.

Her smile widened to a grin as her gaze settled on Tori. Tori was completely naked, lying stretched out on the bed, smiling right back up at Vera. Vera’s gaze moved over Tori, lingering on the silvery scars from the cane that marked her legs, her arms. Vera knew many more lines crossed Tori’s back, long healed now. The light caught on Tori’s skin, made her eyes sparkle, and Vera nearly dropped the bowl from the dizzy rush that swept over her.

Tori was so goddamned beautiful.

Vera waggled her eyebrows and sauntered to the side of the bed. “Um. Wow. Are you…?” She held out the bowl with a smile. “Am I…? Or are you…?”

Tori leaned forward and took the bowl, with the plate on top, from Vera’s hands. She set it on the nightstand. She pushed herself up to her knees on the mattress, reached out again, and pulled Vera close.

Vera trembled as Tori gently pressed her lips against Vera’s. Goosebumps rose under Tori’s fingertips as she slid her hands beneath Vera’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” Tori whispered.

Vera fumbled at her hem and nearly fell over at her eagerness to yank her shirt off over her head. She tossed it into the corner and pulled Tori’s mouth hard against hers.

“Pants, too?” Tori whispered. Vera smiled as she stepped back and slid her panties off with her pajama pants. She straightened and stood before Tori, completely naked, her skin still rippling with goosebumps, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. Tori gently took Vera’s hands in hers and pulled her forward, guiding her down to lie beside her on the bed.

Tori smiled as she reached for the bowl of whipped cream on the nightstand. She set the plate aside and looked at Vera as she dipped one finger into the whipped cream. “Now… where should I put _this?_ ” Tori murmured, and her nose wrinkled with her smile.

“Oh, I have… _so_ many fucking ideas…” Vera rasped. She cleared her throat. “Babe…” She let her head fall back against the pillows.

“Hm,” Tori said, drawing her eyebrows together. “Should I put this… here?” She playfully dabbed a bit of cream on Vera’s nipple and giggled when Vera sucked in a breath. “Or… here?” She dabbed some cream on Vera’s other nipple.

“S-symmetry is, is nice,” Vera sighed. She half wanted to tell Tori, _forget the whipped cream and just let me put my mouth on you, please._

“Hm,” Tori agreed. She tipped in her finger again and drew a line of cream from the space between Vera’s collarbones, down her sternum, all the way down to her navel. Tori wet her lips as she looked at Vera, her eyes dark with want that made Vera _melt._

Tori put the bowl aside and moved so she was straddling Vera’s hips. Vera gasped and whined softly as she felt Tori’s wetness, her own desire rising at the heat between Tori’s legs. She gently stroked the outside of Tori’s thighs, gazing up at her, drinking in the sight of her, beautiful and mischievous and _safe._

_Tori is safe._

Tori bent over Vera, pushing herself back until she licked gently at the whipped cream just above Vera’s navel. Vera groaned and let her head tilt back further. Her eyes slid closed.

“Mmm,” Tori sighed as she ran her tongue slowly, gently, up the line of cream, up Vera’s abdomen and chest. Vera whimpered softly as Tori brushed her lips against Vera’s throat. Vera’s hands trembled on Tori’s thighs, and she slid her hands back, gently cupping Tori’s ass, scratching her nails up Tori’s back, running her fingers up Tori’s flanks, up her sides, to gently caress her breasts. Tori drew in a quavering breath and sat up slightly. With a grin, she dipped her head and ran her tongue across Vera’s chest, over her breast, and gently took Vera’s nipple between her teeth.

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Vera moaned. Her eyes flew open and she grasped Tori’s hips again, grinding her down, wanting desperately to taste Tori, wanting to feel how open and ready she was.

Vera looked at Tori as Tori sucked gently against her nipple, her curly black hair trailing across Vera’s chest, tickling her. Her heart swelled at the sight of Tori naked with her, safe with her, open with her, _wanting_ her. Tears pricked Vera’s eyes. She opened her mouth.

“You wanna get married?” Vera croaked.

Tori froze, her mouth still pressed to Vera’s breast. “Hmph?” she mumbled. Her eyes were wide and fixed on Vera’s.

“Um…” Vera swallowed hard, her nerve suddenly faltering. “Do you, um… wanna get married?”

Tori slowly pulled back, her mouth closing with a snap. She stared at Vera. A smile played at her lips.

“I…” Tori wet her lips, then licked at a bit of whipped cream at the corner of her mouth. “I…” She wiped her mouth with her arm. Her face broke into a grin. “ _Fuck yeah_ I wanna get married,” she whispered.

Vera huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tori sighed. She leaned forward and caught Vera’s mouth in a breathless kiss.

Vera moaned into the kiss, opening her mouth for Tori’s tongue. She pulled Tori hard against her, rolling Tori’s hips against hers. The whipped cream was sticky between them.

Vera laughed again, and again, and again. She let her fingers tangle in Tori’s hair and held her close, their mouths moving together, their breath mingling, fingertips brushing across brown skin. Tori pulled back and flashed Vera a smile.

“Edrissa’s going to go absolutely apeshit,” Vera said with a grin.

“Oh my god, she _is!_ ” Tori squealed. “She’s going to want to make both of our dresses.”

Vera laughed, and it felt… _good._ “She can have at it. I have no idea how she sews the stuff she does with what we’ve been able to get for her. I mean… as long as she can make a dress that isn’t all… poofy…”

“You know she’ll make you whatever you like,” Tori said, and ran her thumb across Vera’s lower lip.

“Then…” Vera tilted her head, thinking. “I want… a maroon dress, a little off the shoulder… little bit of an hourglass thing going on… maybe…” She blinked, and her eyes flicked to Tori’s lips. “And you… I don’t know, do you think Edrissa could make something that sparkles?”

Tori snorted. “And how do you know I want _sparkles?_ ” Her teeth flashed white as she grinned wider.

“Because I know _you,_ ” Vera said, and kissed the tip of Tori’s nose. After a moment she bit her lip, and pulled back. “Speaking of. Do you want—”

“I want a ring,” Tori said, then inexplicably blushed a furious red. “I want… I want a ring. I know it’s stupid, and it really doesn’t matter and it’s hard to get out here, but—”

“I’ll get you a ring,” Vera said softly, tucking Tori’s hair behind her ears. It slipped right back into Tori’s face, tickling Vera’s neck. Vera shivered. “What do you want?”

“Um…” Tori chewed her lip. “I mean… I think I’d… really like you to—”

“Surprise you?” Vera said, her voice gentle.

Tori looked at Vera for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said, in a small voice.

“Then I’ll surprise you,” Vera said. She pulled Tori close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll find you something… amazing.”

“Do you want a ring?” Tori said softly against Vera’s neck.

Vera blinked. What did she _want?_ She hadn’t even expected to ask, let alone for Tori to say yes. She’d never even dreamed of having something like this, something like what she had with Tori, something like their nights together, their kisses, their dreams, their conversations. Their _love._

Vera cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said. Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat again. “Yeah, I… I think I would. Something… practical, that won’t get caught on things when I, um, fight.”

“Something practical,” Tori murmured. She giggled. “A pair of brass knuckles, then. Got it.”

“Oh, yeah. Get the spiked ones.” Vera laughed gently and cradled Tori closer, smoothing her fingers through Tori’s hair, rubbing her thumb back and forth against Tori’s side. Vera pressed a kiss to Tori’s forehead, her nose, her cheek. Her mouth. She smiled at the sweet taste of cream on Tori’s lips. “We’re going to need a shower,” she whispered. “We’re all sticky.”

“Hm.” Tori tilted her head back and shone a sunny smile at Vera. “That’s too bad. We have so much whipped cream left.”

“Oh, I didn’t say we were done with it,” Vera said, reaching for the bowl with a grin on her face. “Not even close.” With one hand still holding the bowl aloft, she rolled with Tori until Tori was pressed into the mattress beneath her. She knelt between Tori’s legs and dipped one finger into the cream again. Her gaze moved over Tori’s body. “Now, where should I…?”

Vera’s gaze settled on Tori’s throat. Vera leaned forward and drew a line of whipped cream from the angle of Tori’s jaw, down to her collar bone, then leaned forward to eagerly lick it off. Tori gasped, and her body rose to press against Vera’s. Vera moaned as Tori rolled her hips against Vera’s. She wondered how she was supposed to be focused on the whipped cream at all.


	7. Chapter 7

“What kind of tea do you want?” Edrissa said, her head in the tea cabinet. “I have chamomile, mint, the spice tea, basil and mint, lemon balm, green tea, Gavin’s headache tea, and that new black tea I got yesterday that’s really really good. It’s almost like Oolong but it’s a little more, I don’t know, intense? Maybe it’s an Oolong blend. I haven’t figured it out yet. Mx. Sadey said the labels fell off when the box got wet and so it’s just kind of a surprise any time they pull teas from that box…”

Sam glanced at her from where they stood at the counter kneading bread dough with one hand. Their right arm was slinged. It was feeling better since they’d hurt it again three days ago, but Finn wasn’t taking any changes. Their heart squeezed as Edrissa met their gaze and blushed.

“Umm…” They scrunched their nose as they thought. “Chamomile, please.”

Edrissa nodded and turned her gaze to Zachariah, who stood across the kitchen at another counter chopping onions for the stew that would feed the family tonight. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

“I’ll, um, take chamomile too, please,” Zachariah said softly.

Edrissa nodded once and pulled the tin from the cabinet. She flitted to the stove and began to heat the kettle. Then she spun and went to Sam’s side, her hip just brushing against theirs. Sam wanted to pull her close and kiss her, right there.

“How’s the bread going?” she murmured, and Sam flushed, hoping she was dropping her voice so she’d have an excuse to draw even closer. The faint, sweet flowery smell of her shampoo wafted over Sam, that and the smell of sunshine that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“Um, good,” they said, and their voice cracked. They cleared their throat. “Good. I think it just needs to sit… right?”

Edrissa beamed. “Right. We’ll let it rise, then place it in the pans. Speaking of.” She darted to the oven. “I should preheat this.”

Zachariah set the knife down on the counter and crossed to the stove. He steered clear of Edrissa as he slid the onions into the stew pot. She watched him carefully, her gaze following his hands. Her eyes flicked to his face and back, and she smiled again.

_It would be so good if she liked him, too,_ Sam thought with a flush.

“Celery next?” Zachariah said, already crossing to the refrigerator.

“Yeah,” Edrissa said. She pulled three mugs down from the cupboard as Zachariah took a giant stalk of celery from the refrigerator and began to cut it into bite-sized pieces on the cutting board. Edrissa scooped three spoonfuls of chamomile into the tea strainers and set them each into the mugs.

“What’re you making us?” Vera said as she walked into the kitchen. Sam looked up at her and saw her smiling, wandering over to the stove. “Need any help?”

“Not yet,” Edrissa said. “Actually…” She glanced around the kitchen at Sam and Zachariah. “I think we might have it covered.”

“Fair enough,” Vera said with a nod. She turned and went to the barstools that stood along the counter that looked into the kitchen. She sat down with a groan.

“Where’s Tori?” Sam said as they gently placed the dough into a bowl and covered the bowl with a cloth.

“Reading,” Vera said with a shrug. “She wanted some alone time, so I’m out here harassing you.” She laughed. “Are you feeling harassed?”

“No,” Edrissa said, raising her eyebrows at Vera.

“Yes,” Sam said at the exact same time, throwing an impish grin Vera’s way.

Vera snorted and looked to Zachariah. “What about you, kid? You break the tie. Are you feeling harassed?”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide and his face went pale as he looked up at Vera. His gaze darted to Sam and Edrissa and back to Vera. He swallowed hard, his hand curling around a stalk of celery. “Um… y-yes?”

Vera burst out laughing and high-fived herself. “Mission accomplished,” she said with a smile.

Sam looked towards the back of the house as the door opened. They smiled as Isaac and Gavin wandered in, Isaac’s arm slung over Gavin’s shoulders. In the corner of the eye, they saw Zachariah tense and turn back towards the cutting board. Edrissa didn’t seem to bat an eye, but returned to Sam’s side, winding her arm around Sam’s waist and pressing a kiss to their cheek. Sam flushed as they pulled her close and kissed gently into her hair. Their flush deepened as they noticed Vera look at them – and then waggle her eyebrows at them with a wide grin on her face.

“How’s the lake?” Vera said from her seat at the counter.

Isaac drew his free hand through his hair and laughed. “Completely devoid of fish, as far as I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “At this point we’ve put lines down the whole way around the lake and caught nothing.”

“It doesn’t count if you’re making out the whole time and not watching the lines,” Vera said, and cocked an eyebrow at Isaac.

Isaac and Gavin both flushed an almost painful-looking red. Isaac opened his mouth to protest. “I…”

“Oh, just ignore her, Isaac,” Sam said good-naturedly, their arm still around Edrissa’s waist. “She’s been _harassing_ us since she sat down.”

Vera idly chewed a fingernail. “Which, as I said, was my mission,” she said. “And I think I’m pulling it off beautifully. Who else am I supposed to bother if Tori’s not around?”

“Where’s Tori?” Isaac asked as he went to the sink and filled a cup with water. He drank the whole thing and filled it again.

Vera shrugged. “She wanted some time to herself. She’s reading. And I wanted to come bother you lovely people.”

“Lucky us,” Isaac grumbled, and shot a winning smile in Vera’s direction. “I think it might be worth it to talk to someone in Burmingham about stocking the lake. Having meat around would be good.”

Edrissa wrinkled her nose. “Oh, good. More fish.”

The kettle on the stove began to whistle. Edrissa left Sam’s side to go take it off and pour steaming water into the three cups on the counter. “I can make tea for you guys, too,” she said, and looked up at Vera, Isaac, and Gavin.

“No, no thanks,” Gavin said quietly, his cheeks still red. Isaac shook his head.

Vera smiled. “I’m okay, thanks,” she said.

Edrissa nodded and put the kettle back on the stovetop. She picked up two of the mugs. She took one to Sam, carefully passing it into their left had before she kissed them gently on the cheek again. Then she went to Zachariah’s side. He dwarfed her, standing as tall as Isaac, and broader in the shoulders and hips. Sam’s heart skipped as Edrissa handed him the cup, having to crane her head back to look up at him, her pale blonde hair looking almost like white gold against Zachariah’s warm brown skin. Sam’s throat bobbed as they swallowed, their mouth going dry at the thought they’d had ever since Zachariah appeared into their life again.

_Maybe…_

Zachariah smiled shyly at Edrissa as he took the cup. “Thanks, Edrissa,” he murmured. “You’re a sweetheart.”

The smile on Sam’s face disappeared. Their stomach lurched. Gavin and Vera both gasped.

Edrissa spun around to look at Vera, and her gaze drifted to Gavin. “W-we don’t say that word,” Edrissa said tightly.

Zachariah fell a step back, his hands still clutching the mug. He seemed to shrink before Sam’s eyes. “I’m… ‘m sorry,” he said through trembling lips. “I didn’t… I… I’m sorry.”

Sam glanced at Vera. She was staring at the counter, drawing in slow, deep breaths, her hands clenched into fists in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her neck, and Sam could hear it pop from across the kitchen. They chewed their lip.

Movement in the corner of their eye drew their gaze to Gavin. He stood huddled against Isaac’s side, his eyes wide and filled with horror – and staring right at Vera.

“Oh, fuck,” Gavin whispered.

Vera opened her eyes and blew out another breath through her lips. She met Gavin’s gaze. “Well,” she breathed. “That’s a fucking horrifying realization.”

Zachariah blinked and looked at Vera. “Wh-what? I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Vera said evenly, but her hands shook as she clasped them together. She looked up at Gavin, and the pain in her eyes made Sam’s chest ache. “And I didn’t even… make the connection.”

“N-neither did I,” Gavin whimpered softly. His fingers tangled in Isaac’s shirt. Isaac pressed an anxious kiss against Gavin’s temple.

Sam wet their lips. “Um, Zachariah…” They walked to Zachariah’s side, standing just beside Edrissa. They could feel everyone’s gazes on their back. “We, um, don’t say that word because, um… that’s what Joseph Stormbeck used to call Vera when he… captured her.” They gently rested their hand on Zachariah’s arm, and felt Zachariah relax slightly under the touch. “And that’s what Colleen Stormbeck called Gavin while she, um…”

“My whole life,” Gavin said with a hollow voice. “That’s what she called me my whole life. That’s what she called all her playthings. And I never even… _noticed._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Zachariah said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.” He drew himself up to his full height and looked at the others. Sam turned and saw Gavin still looking right at Vera, and she looked right back at him with a matching expression of horror and understanding. Sam’s hand slipped from Zachariah’s arm, and they flexed their fingers as their hand fell to their side. Edrissa’s eyes were fixed on Sam, a strange sort of sadness crossing her face.

Slowly, Vera pushed herself up from the barstool and crossed to Gavin’s side. Tears shone in Gavin’s eyes. Vera’s were dry, looking almost fevered. She held out a hand to Gavin.

Gavin slid from Isaac’s embrace and fell against Vera as she wrapped her arms around him and crushed him to her chest. He squeezed her tight and laid his head on her shoulder.

“Now we know,” Vera said heavily, her voice tight with tears.

“H-how did we… _miss_ that?” Gavin said, and his voice broke.

Vera huffed out a broken laugh. “Don’t make me remind you this early in the afternoon that you’re a dumb—”

“I’m a dumbass,” Gavin grumbled against her shoulder. “I know.”

Isaac stepped forward and wrapped his arms around them both. “I’m… um… s-sorry,” he croaked. “For both of you. That they… _hurt_ you that way.”

Vera sniffed and pulled away from them both. She still held Gavin by his shoulders. “Yeah,” she said weakly.

Zachariah shifted his feet next to Sam. “So… so they… Gavin, you…”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and swiped at his eyes. “I mean, I knew she… _used_ me, but I didn’t realize… she…” He cleared his throat. “Um…” He blew out a slow breath, and shrugged out of Vera’s grip. “Isaac… I’m going to go, um, change.”

Isaac met Gavin’s gaze, and Sam’s heart ached at the pain they saw there. _He always blames himself. He always feels like he has to fix it._

Isaac nodded. “Okay. Do you want—”

“I just need a minute,” Gavin rasped, and sidestepped Isaac. He disappeared down the hall, with Isaac looking after him.

When Isaac finally looked away from the hallway, he turned to Vera. “Do you…?” He held out his hands to her.

“Yeah, sure,” Vera said brusquely, and dragged Isaac into a crushing hug.

At Sam’s side, Zachariah crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. “Is there, um… any, anything else I shouldn’t say?”

Sam glanced at Edrissa. “Edrissa… Do you—”

“Honey,” she said with a tremulous voice. She set her jaw. “They called me ‘honey’.”

Zachariah nodded.

Sam wet their lips. “And… please don’t call me, um… Sammy,” Sam said, looking up at him, their heart speeding up as his light brown eyes found theirs. They glanced to Edrissa, and to Vera and Isaac, who had let go of each other and now stood close enough that their shoulders were touching. “Guys, can you think of anything…?”

“I think that about covers it,” Vera said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “I mean, I’m guessing we’ll be finding shit like this for a while.” She fixed Zachariah with her gaze, and he seemed to wither under it. “But it’s not your fault, kid. Okay?”

Zachariah swallowed loudly. “Um…”

“It’s not,” Sam said gently, finding their own hand once again settling on his shoulder. “We all make mistakes with this stuff, and you didn’t know.”

Zachariah’s mouth twisted. “But I do now,” he said. He looked at Edrissa as she crossed to Sam’s side and tucked herself under their unslinged arm. “And I’ll… I’ll remember.”

Sam nodded at Zachariah, and turned to look at Edrissa. She was looking at them both with a sad, wistful smile on her face.


	8. Chapter 8

Isaac’s hand hovered above the doorknob to his room. Gavin was in there – Isaac hadn’t seen Gavin leave, and the bathroom was empty – but Isaac didn’t know if Gavin wanted to be seen yet. _“I just need a minute,”_ Gavin had said. It had been fifteen. Zachariah, Edrissa, and Sam were still in the kitchen, browning meat and chopping herbs to be added to the stew. Vera was still sitting at the counter, chatting with the three of them, with a forced sort of calm. And Isaac could feel his heart beating in his chest, every moment bringing an awareness that Gavin was behind this door, Gavin was suffering, Gavin was _alone_ …

Isaac set his jaw and knocked. “Hey, Gavin?” he said softly.

A sniff, behind the door. “Y-yeah?”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut and gently rested his forehead against the solid oak of the door. “Can I… can I come in?”

There was a long silence, and every second dragged at Isaac’s chest. He bit down hard on his lip. His hands tightened into fists.

Then, Gavin’s voice said softly, “Um… yeah.”

Isaac let out a huff of relief and opened the door.

Gavin sat on the bed, a small pile of books on the mattress beside him. He was clutching at one of the books, his fingers tight on the pages as he looked up at Isaac with despair in his eyes. Isaac’s heart clenched as he stepped into the room and closed the door.

“Um… what’re you doing?” Isaac said gently.

Gavin wiped his nose and let the book fall from his hand onto the bed – _When Home is a Nightmare: Recovering from Childhood Abuse_ by Lander Coply. Isaac had seen Gavin poring over it, ever since Gray brought it home from Crayton the first week they’d been back.

Gavin read every book Gray brought home – novels, philosophy books, how-to manuals. He’d even read Finn and Ellis’s baby development book, when they were off fixing up the little house just down the road. Gavin now had his own collection of books, spread out over the bedspread, that Gray had brought home just for him. Gavin looked up at Isaac now, and Isaac’s stomach lurched as he saw the desperate, frenzied pain in Gavin’s face. He took a step closer, his hands held out in front of him and slightly to his sides.

“Gavin?” Isaac said softly.

“I never…” Gavin whined softly and rocked back and forth, hugging himself. “I n-never… how did I never… _see_ it? She called me… called me… _that_ … my whole fucking life, then turned around and called our fucking _playthings_ the exact same thing. That’s what she called Vera and Tori. I… _I_ called them that, because I knew it would help. I knew it… _fuck,_ I _knew_ calling them that would make my mom think I was breaking. And how can I… I…” Gavin groaned and leaned forward, pressing his face into his hands.

Isaac took another step closer. “Gavin… do you… want to be touched right now?”

Gavin pressed on as if he hadn’t even heard Isaac. “How could I go through my entire _fucking life_ and not even realize my parents were treating me like… like… like a fucking _plaything?_ ”

Isaac swallowed dryly. “Um… Gavin… sometimes we… don’t pick up on things until, um, way later—”

“But this was fucking _obvious,_ ” Gavin snarled. He snapped his head up and fixed Isaac with a glare. “This… maybe if I… realized _this_ a long time ago, I wouldn’t have…” Gavin’s gaze moved over Isaac’s arms, over the scars there. He made a sound of disgust and shoved himself to his feet. He started pacing around the room.

“What am I supposed to do?” Gavin panted, tearing his hands through his hair. “What the fuck am I supposed to _do?_ If I didn’t realize _this,_ then… how can I even… how can I expect to… to get _better?_ How can I… Gray gets me all these books so maybe they’ll, they’ll _help,_ but…” Gavin snatched a book up off the bed and flipped through it roughly. The corners were dog-eared, lines and passages underlined, notes written in the margins.

_Those books didn’t look like that when Gray got them._

“See?” Gavin spat, and dropped the book onto the bed. “Th-this one is, is about recovery from, um narcissistic parents. And _this one_ —” He grabbed another and rifled through it. “—is about brainwashing. It’s a book about parents, but there’s some cult stuff in there, too. And this one—” He tossed the book onto the bed and picked up one with a worn cover, pages crinkled with water stains. “—is about h-how, how to, to heal from abuse. And all these _fucking books_ …” Gavin dropped the book, and it thumped to the bedspread. He threw his hand in the direction of his bed, to the pile of books that he had read meticulously, over and over, scribbled in the margins and kept the passages that meant something to him. Tears shone in his eyes.

“Gavin,” Isaac said softly, and stepped forward, hands outstretched. To his dismay and shock, Gavin shoved his hands away.

Gavin swiped at his eyes. “All th-these _fucking books_ talk about shit my parents did. They talk about the lying, and the conditioning, and the n-neglect…” Gavin sniffed furiously. “Even th-though I had everything I could ever ask for…” His eyes unfocused as Isaac watched. Then his gaze snapped back to Isaac. His face looked torn with grief, his mouth in a terrible agonized snarl, his eyes wide and desperate. “And they… they talk about… _symptoms._ ” He spat the word. “They talk about… _common manifestations of trauma._ And I have… I ha-have… _all of them._ ” Gavin sobbed weakly and dashed the tears from his eyes. “Depression… anxiety… a feeling of impending doom… nightmares… migraines… flashbacks… blaming myself… a feeling of emptiness… And I…” He clawed at his chest, breathing hard.

Isaac stood in front of him in shock and horror. His mouth opened, then closed.

“I f-feel empty… all the _time,_ ” Gavin rasped. He raised his gaze to Isaac with something like a frenzy behind his eyes. “But you… you’re enough. This whole family, you’re enough. Y-you’re more than, than I c-could… ever _deserve._ But there’s this emptiness inside me that doesn’t go away, no matter what I feed into it…” His eyes were running tears now. Gavin didn’t even try to wipe them away. “Every time you touch me, or Gray tells me I did something _right,_ or Vera smiles at me, or Edrissa fucking… _trusts_ me with the tiniest little thing…” Gavin gasped. “It feels so good, and I just want _more._ I want more of, of _everything._ And these… these… _fucking books_ …”

“Gavin,” Isaac said softly, his blood pounding in his ears. His hands shook. “Breathe. Breathe. Just—”

“These books tell me how this kind of, of _trauma_ —” Gavin’s chest heaved in a sob. “—affects you. They tell me it’ll be hard to establish solid relationships. That it’ll be hard to trust myself. That I’m gonna hurt, for the rest of my life, and every time I read this shit it feels like I’m reading my own fucking _eulogy._ ” Gavin sank to the bed and wrapped his arms around his chest. “And… I just…” He shook his head. Defeated. Isaac trembled with the need to _help,_ and the terror of not knowing _how._

Gavin heaved a shuddering breath. “I just don’t know how this is supposed to work.” He gestured weakly between himself and Isaac. “It feels like… _impossible_ fucking odds that I could ever be… be happy.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

Isaac went to Gavin and got down on his knees in front of him. He clutched at Gavin’s hands and held them in his, warming Gavin’s freezing fingers in his grip. He ducked into Gavin’s eyeline, seeking his gaze. Gavin looked at the floor.

Dread burned in Isaac’s gut, but he reached out with one hand and cupped Gavin’s face. Gavin shuddered under the touch and pushed slightly into Isaac’s hand. Isaac’s heart ached as he stroked Gavin’s cheek with his thumb. He leaned in close and met Gavin’s gaze.

_“Fuck the odds,”_ Isaac whispered.

Gavin’s lips parted and he looked at Isaac, his eyes searching. Questioning. Desperately hoping. “Wh-what?”

“Fuck. The. Odds,” Isaac said softly. “Fuck what those books say. Fuck what the, what the fucking… _world_ says, Gavin. You’ve already…” His throat tightened. He swallowed hard. “You’ve already done so much.”

Gavin’s mouth twisted in an ugly grimace. “Stop it, Isaac,” he said bitterly. “Stop. Please. Don’t—”

“According to everything I know,” Isaac said, his lips trembling, “I should be dead.”

Gavin felt silent and stared at Isaac. His eyebrows pulled together, and Isaac longed to lean forward and kiss away the worry lines there.

“According to everything I know,” Isaac murmured, “You should have killed me. I should be… should be dead. In your basement, or in the Crayton house, or wherever. That’s what I know. But I’m… I’m alive. I’m alive… _because of you._ ”

Gavin whimpered. “Isaac…”

“You saved us,” Isaac breathed. He slid his hand down Gavin’s neck, over his shoulder, down his arm to grasp Gavin’s hand. “You were born syndicate, and raised by those fucking… _monsters_ that called themselves your parents. And you left. _You left._ ” Isaac raised his hand and lightly tapped Gavin’s chest. His own heart pounded, his mouth dry with the words that seemed to burn his tongue.

_You’re good. You’re mine. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t lose yourself._

Isaac forced his lips to stop trembled. “Do you know how hard that is? Do you know… how m-much courage that took?”

“You did it, too,” Gavin said. He held Isaac’s gaze like it was a lifeline.

Isaac chewed his lip. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I did. And… and you… you found us. You were… Gavin… You changed because of the goodness _inside you._ ” He rested his hand lightly on Gavin’s chest.

Even with just that touch, Gavin’s eyes flickered closed, and he drew in a deep breath. “B-but… where did it… did it _come from?_ ” Gavin rasped. “My parents put… evil inside me. If I’m good…” He gripped his hands together tightly and looked at Isaac. “If I’m good…”

“You’re good because it comes from in you,” Isaac said, steadying the tremor in his voice, the desperation. “It’s who you _are._ ”

“B-but I still… I still… want to hurt people, sometimes,” Gavin said, his voice dropping. His head fell forward and his face twisted with shame.

“Everybody does sometimes,” Isaac said softly. “Sam does. Gray does.”

“But it’s different with me,” Gavin said through his teeth, as if holding back a scream. “Because I… I _remember_ how it felt to feel someone’s blood on my hands, feel them…” He squeezed one hand into a fist. “F-feel the life drain out of them when I… when I bleed them. Or choke them.” He raised his head to meet Isaac’s eyes. His gaze bored into Isaac, seeming to pierce him down to his soul. “I know exactly how it would have felt to kill _you._ ” Gavin’s eyes were blank, unfocused. Isaac’s stomach pitched at the sight of Gavin’s deep green gaze so broken, so _shattered._ He wet his lips and squeezed Gavin’s hands.

“And I know how it would have felt to kill _you,_ in that safehouse basement,” Isaac said softly. “There’s no point in—”

“How am I supposed to stop hurting, Isaac?” Gavin rasped. His eyes suddenly blazed with rage, with pain, with _grief._ “Even when I, um, feel good, even when I’m with you and with the family, even when things are good…” He moved his hand to his chest and pressed there. “I still hurt. Here. And in my head. And in my, my _hands._ ” He whimpered and leaned forward. His head dropped onto Isaac’s shoulder. “I just want to stop _hurting._ ”

Isaac pushed himself up and sat beside Gavin on the bed. He pulled Gavin into his arms and held him as Gavin’s hands wound into his shirt, pulling Isaac close, clutching him as if his life depended on it. Gavin unraveled and collapsed into Isaac’s arms, heaving great, wracking sobs with each breath.

“H-how, do, do I, do I s-stop… _hurting?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Isaac murmured into Gavin’s hair. His eyes pricked with tears. “But… please… _try._ Please try. I want to try with you. And I want to be… w-with you, Gavin. Please.” He pressed a kiss against Gavin’s temple. _“Please.”_

Gavin whimpered wordlessly. “How?” he whispered. “How do I do more?”

“I didn’t mean do _more,_ Gavin,” Isaac said. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips into Gavin’s hair. “I meant… please… just _keep_ trying. You don’t have to read those books, if you don’t want to. You don’t have to be… _good,_ Gavin.” Isaac gasped as hot, bitter sorrow punched through his chest. Gavin whimpered and clutched him tighter. “You don’t have to be… _good,_ Gavin. You don’t have to do it _right._ ”

Gavin shuddered and sobbed against Isaac’s shoulder. Tears pricked Isaac’s eyes as he pulled Gavin tighter to his chest, holding him as he trembled and wailed into Isaac’s shirt.

“I…” Gavin choked and heaved a sob. “I d-don’t have to be… good?”

“No,” Isaac said. His voice broke, and his own tears spilled over. “Neither of us do.”

Gavin whined and shook. His tears wet Isaac’s shirt. Isaac rocked him slowly, shivering at the feel of Gavin’s breath on his neck, the warmth of him in his arms, the sound of Gavin’s sobs in the quiet room. He nosed into Gavin’s hair, breathing him in, holding him tight, even as his own chest ached with each word as it passed through his mind:

_You don’t have to be good._

“Please, Gavin,” Isaac rasped. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to do it right. You don’t have to… to be _good._ But please keep trying. Please keep… Please stay with me. Please remember I love you, and it… it wasn’t your _fault,_ what your parents did.” Isaac’s throat was so tight he could barely get the words out.

Gavin was silent for a long moment. Isaac’s chest ached as he held Gavin tight, feeling Gavin’s chest move as he breathed, feeling the shudders move over and through him with each quiet sob.

_Please, please stay with me._

Isaac’s heart clenched in tremulous relief when he felt Gavin wind himself closer into Isaac’s arms, and nod against his chest.

“I promise,” Gavin whispered. “I’m… I promise.”


	9. Chapter 9

As Sam carried their bowl into the kitchen after dinner, Edrissa met their eyes with a shy smile. They stacked their bowl by the sink as Vera rolled up her sleeves and turned on the hot water. Isaac and Gavin began to pile the cooking pans by the sink, Gavin’s eyes a little red-rimmed, and Isaac watching Gavin as they moved around the kitchen. Finn and Ellis had decided to eat dinner in Burmingham after they’d spent all day fixing up their house. Tori kissed Vera gently on the cheek and stood to the side of the sink, ready to dry dishes as Vera handed them to her.

Zachariah hovered at Sam’s shoulder, an anxious, near-constant presence since he’d called Edrissa ‘sweetheart’ that afternoon. He wrung his hands, glancing every now and then at the sink where Vera was now scrubbing each dish, rinsing it, and passing it to Tori to dry.

Almost without thinking, Sam gently placed their hand on Zachariah’s arm.

Edrissa’s gaze flicked to Sam’s hand, and back to their face. Her clear blue eyes darkened, just a little. Faded. Her smile was still there, as gorgeous as ever, but the corners of her mouth fell slightly as Sam watched. They wet their lips to speak.

“Want to go for a walk?” Edrissa said first. Her gaze flicked to Zachariah. “Um… just… just you and me.” She smiled wider, but it seemed forced, that sadness still tightening in her eyes.

Sam’s mouth went dry, and they swallowed. “Yeah,” they rasped. They glanced at Zachariah and squeezed his arm.

Zachariah’s eyes went slightly wide, and he glanced around at the others.

“They won’t bite,” Sam said gently, and smiled at him. They stepped away and followed Edrissa to the back of the house, and out into the warm night.

The sun was still up, shining over the lake, not even behind the trees yet. Sam blinked and tilted their head back, breathing in deep the clean air, the smell of the grass and sand and trees. They felt the wind play through their hair, felt Edrissa’s warm fingers clasp through theirs as they walked through the overgrown yard and out the back gate to the beach. The grass was patchy, giving way to sand that shifted under Sam’s bare feet.

The moon hadn’t risen yet. It was almost the full moon – Edrissa kept track of things like that, the moon, the seasons, the time when the herbs in the garden sprouted and bloomed. She had a little journal Gray had given her where she drew plants and charts of the starts, patterns for clothes, sketches of Nata where he sat in the sunny windowsills. It occurred to Sam that the last time they saw Edrissa scribbling in her little book, she’d been close to the end of it. Sam had seen a shop in Crayton that sold pretty things like Edrissa seemed to like: notebooks, pens, tiny jars of colorful ink that they’d seen her staring at when they went into town. They were unbelievably expensive, all of it either taken off luxury syndicate shipments or purchased from black market dealers – _who knew there was a black market for fountain pens?_ – but if Sam started volunteering with the refugees and saving the credits Daniel Schiester gave them…

_Maybe I should get her a new notebook,_ they thought to themself. _Maybe she’d like the one with the pink flowers on the cover. Or… she seemed to like the leather ones, too. Maybe I could get one for her birthday. When was that again? I think it was—_

“We missed your birthday,” Sam whispered.

Edrissa blinked and looked at them. “What?” The sun shone on her hair, making it seem like liquid gold.

Sam reached out and tucked a lock behind her ear. “Y-your birthday,” they said softly. “It’s in May, isn’t it? We… we missed it.”

Edrissa shrugged and looked at the sand shifting under her feet as she walked. She turned slightly and they both began to walk along the shore of the lake. “It was May fifth. You were, um… s-south,” she murmured.

Sam stopped where they stood. “Oh.”

Edrissa stopped beside them and squeezed their hand. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Gray celebrated with me. We went into town and went to that restaurant that makes the cheese they light on fire. Then we went to Ms. Clancy’s nursery and Gray let me pick out any herb I wanted.” Edrissa glanced back at the house. “I picked the lemon balm. It’s _loving_ the cool weather. That’s what I made the tea from.”

Sam turned to fully face Edrissa. She had a proud little smile on her face, and a sparkle in her eyes that she always got when she talked about her beautiful things. The breeze made wisps of her hair float around her face, and her lips were curved up into a smile that made Sam want to lean forward and kiss her.

Without a word, they cradled her face and brushed their lips against hers.

Edrissa sighed and pulled Sam close, her fingers winding into their shirt. She trembled as Sam carefully pulled their right arm out of its sling and wound it around her waist, holding her close. Their right shoulder was sore, but there was no flash of pain, no bolt of agony through the wound. Edrissa ghosted her tongue over Sam’s lower lip and they whimpered softly. They didn’t meet her tongue with theirs, though, because Edrissa didn’t like that.

But Edrissa liked kissing Sam, and Sam _loved_ that.

Edrissa pulled slightly away, breaking the kiss but keeping her forehead pressed against Sam’s. She shivered in the breeze and blew out a slow breath as she held Sam.

“Edrissa?” Sam said softly. They gently pulled their hands away and let them fall to their sides. Their right arm twinged, and chewed the inside of their cheek as they held back their groan of pain. Their gaze moved over her face. Her fingers tightened in Sam’s shirt and she bit her lip like she was holding back tears.

Sam’s eyebrows drew together. Their stomach dipped. “Edrissa?” They licked their lips. “What’s the matter?”

Edrissa finally released Sam and wiped her eyes. She sniffed. “Um… I was just thinking… um…” She shrugged jerkily. “I’ve been, um… w-watching, um, you. And Zachariah.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and they pushed down the stir of warmth in their chest. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Edrissa said. She cleared her throat. “And you, um… you seem to, um, do really well together. You look, um, good.”

Sam ventured a smile. “So do you, Edrissa,” they said gently.

Edrissa waved the comment away. “He’s… he’s big, and, um, and strong, and he’s really nice.”

“Yeah, he is.” Sam reached out and squeezed Edrissa’s hand. The sling hung empty around their neck.

“And… he seems to like, um, you.” Edrissa shrugged again. She wrapped her free arm around her waist and looked at the ground.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?” they croaked, and glanced back towards the house, shining white-yellow in the sun.

“He’d be really good for you, Sam,” Edrissa said, and Sam was confused to hear a hint of sadness – of dismay – in her voice. “He’s good, and kind, and he’ll protect you. And he’d probably be okay with… he’d… probably…” Edrissa released Sam’s hand and wrapped her other arm around her waist, squeezing herself tight. Tears glittered in her eyes.

Sam’s eyebrows pulled together, and they tilted their head as they looked at Edrissa – their beautiful girlfriend, their sweet Edrissa, gorgeous and talented and special. They chewed their lip. “Edrissa… I don’t…”

“What I mean to say is,” Edrissa said, tight-lipped, “Is that… I think you two should go together.”

Sam watched Edrissa carefully. “Okay…”

“Because… I would understand if…” Edrissa blinked and two tears ran down her cheeks. Edrissa swiped them away and stared at the ground again. “You deserve… everything, Sam,” she rasped. “You deserve someone who’s strong, and not broken, someone who can, um… h-have _sex._ I don’t know if I’ll… ever want to. I don’t know if I _can._ ”

Sam reached out to her. “Edrissa, I—”

She pulled away from their grasp. “He’s good for you, Sam,” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “You’re good _together._ And I mean… he’s… he’s _gorgeous_ … and so considerate, and he’d… he’d… treat you s-so well…”

Sam’s heart pounded in their chest. “Edrissa, are you… b-breaking up with me?” Their chest ached. Their skin felt too tight, their lungs not quite able to expand.

“N-no!” Edrissa cried, and grabbed Sam’s hand. “No, I… I want to be with you, I just… I want you to be… _happy._ And Zachariah can make you happy.”

“You make me happy, too,” Sam whimpered. Their mind reeled, grasping for an answer, a _reason_ why Edrissa would do this. “And… you like him too, right?”

Edrissa blinked. “Well… yeah, I mean… he’s… he’s wonderful. I like his arms, and his voice, and his lips, and how he always wants to help me in the kitchen, and… and…” She blushed a furious crimson.

Sam drew in a deep breath, trying to calm their pounding heart, trying to soothe the ache in their chest. “So… if you like him… and I like him…”

“He’ll choose you,” Edrissa whispered. “I know he’ll choose you. You’re…” Edrissa’s gaze flicked up to Sam and back. “You’re… He’d have to be _crazy_ not to choose you.”

Sam looked at Edrissa for a long moment, searching her face with their gaze, swallowing against the lump in their throat. “Um… Edrissa, we could just… be with him… together?”

Edrissa blinked and raised her gaze to Sam’s. “We could… _what?_ ”

Sam shrugged. “I mean… you don’t have to? But… if you like him, and I like him, and he seems to like both of us…”

“You think so?” Edrissa breathed. Her eyes shone with painful-looking hope.

Sam suddenly thought back to Edrissa clambering up onto Zachariah’s back, holding the baking sheet aloft like a shield – and of how Zachariah’s hands had gently curved around her legs, how he’d been so _careful_ as he dodged Sam’s handful of whipped cream, how he’d kept her safe, even from that innocent attack.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod. “I think so.”

Edrissa swallowed hard. “Is that… something people do… a lot?” she murmured. “I thought… I don’t know, I’ve never seen that before. My parents were married only to each other, and my boyfriend and I were only with each other, and my o-owner only ever had—” She cut herself off with a gasp and looked back down at her feet, sinking into the soft sand.

“I just know it’s something people do,” Sam said gently. “And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But… Edrissa…” They stepped forward and cupped Edrissa’s face, tilting her head back so they could see her eyes. “I would, um… really, really like that. If we could all… be together. And… please know that…” They leaned forward and gently kissed Edrissa’s cheek. She drew in a short, quick breath. “I like you. A lot. And just because you’ve been through… what you’ve been through…” They kissed her other cheek, and she whimpered softly. “…doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I told you.” They gently pressed their lips to hers. “I don’t need to have sex, if you don’t want to have it. You’re my… my girlfriend.” They smiled at the shiver of her breath against their lips as they said it. “And you told me what you wanted when we started this, and I told you that’s what I wanted, too.”

“Oh,” Edrissa murmured. She pulled Sam close and laid her head on their shoulder. “So… did you want to talk to him… tonight?”

Sam’s stomach flipped at the idea of pulling Zachariah close, kissing him, as Edrissa touched him, too, as he touched them both, together. Their mouth went dry. “Um, yeah,” they croaked. They laughed softly. “Yeah. Tonight. Sounds good.”

They turned back towards the house. Sam slung their left arm over Edrissa’s shoulders. She laced her fingers through theirs, and wound her arm around their waist. They laughed as they bumped hips, stumbling over the sand, as they made their way back to the house.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: explicit consensual sex

Edrissa closed the bedroom door behind her as she glanced back at Sam and Zachariah. Sam’s hands were already under Zachariah’s shirt as they pushed him towards Sam’s bed, their mouths moving together, Zachariah having to bend down to kiss them. Zachariah’s large hands cradled Sam’s face, and Edrissa’s heart beat faster as she looked at Sam; their eyes were closed, their mouth open and panting against Zachariah’s as he gently stroked Sam’s face with his thumbs. Edrissa walked further into the room and helped pull Zachariah towards the bed, her own lips kissing a line up his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his neck. Zachariah’s legs bumped against the bed and he sat, pulling Sam to straddle him in one smooth motion. Edrissa shivered as she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself behind Zachariah, pressing against his warm back, leaving a trail of bites and nibbles up his neck and across his jaw until he broke the kiss with Sam and turned his head to kiss Edrissa.

“R-remember, no tongue,” Edrissa whispered against his soft lips, even as she trembled with want.

“I remember,” he groaned, as Sam bent their head and kissed his neck. Edrissa’s stomach burned with the sound of his breathless gasp. _“Oh…”_

“Is it good?” Sam murmured against Zachariah’s neck.

“ _Good,_ I… oh my… _g-god_ …” Zachariah gasped against Edrissa’s lips as her hand slipped under his shirt, and her fingers ghosted across his nipple.

“I think he likes it, Sam,” Edrissa murmured with a grin as his nipple hardened against her fingertips. “Let’s get this shirt off.”

Edrissa and Sam both pulled Zachariah’s shirt up over his head and off, and dropped it to the floor. Sam hooked their good hand behind Zachariah’s head and pulled him into a deep kiss, their right hand staying close by their side, their fingers lightly gripping Zachariah’s waist. Edrissa gently kissed Zachariah’s shoulder, then down his back, drawing gasps and moans from him she tasted the slightly salty taste of his skin. She dragged her nails across Zachariah’s left shoulder, over the Stormbeck crest imprinted on his skin in black ink.

Zachariah gasped and flinched away from Edrissa’s touch, breaking the kiss with Sam. “ _Ah,_ that’s… n-not healed…”

“Sorry,” Edrissa murmured, and impulsively pressed a kiss over the tattoo. “You… you could have it covered up…?”

“I’m going to,” Zachariah said, turning his head to look her in the eye. She blushed at the intensity of his gaze. “If Gray ever decides it’s safe for me to go into town, I’m going straight to the closest tattoo parlor that’s safe for me and I’m getting it covered up. I don’t care with what. You could…” Zachariah smiled as he brushed his knuckles across Edrissa’s cheek. “You could design a cover-up, for me.”

Edrissa trembled with the soft touch. “You’d probably get something with flowers,” she said, looking down shyly. “I… I mostly draw flowers.”

“Hell, I’ll get a tattoo of Nata, for all I care,” Zachariah said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I just want it covered.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Edrissa murmured, and pulled back. She met Sam’s gaze, and her chest felt like it would burst with the rush of tingling heat as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to theirs. They groaned and rolled their hips against Zachariah’s as she kissed them.

Zachariah moaned and grasped Sam’s hips, guiding them to roll against him again, and again, and again. Sam panted against Edrissa’s lips, their eyes fluttering shut. Zachariah’s hands moved to the hem of Sam’s shirt.

Sam broke the kiss with Edrissa and gently placed their hands on Zachariah’s. “Um…”

Edrissa felt a wash of protective concern. She knew Sam was self-conscious about their scars; she’d never known them not to be. But now that Gavin had marked them again, now that they had fresh scars littered over the old ones… Her heart ached for them. She felt the urge to pull Zachariah’s hands away from Sam.

Zachariah flushed and bit his lip. “Oh. Do you not want…?”

“N-no, I… I do,” Sam rasped. “But I have… ha-have scars. From… um…” They cleared their throat. “I just don’t want you to be… surprised.”

“Okay,” Zachariah said carefully. Edrissa felt a flush of anger, almost ready for Zachariah to reject Sam for their scars – and secretly daring him to do it, even as she felt like she’d be torn apart if he did.

Instead, he held Sam’s gaze. Slowly, gently, he eased Sam’s shirt up and off, being careful not to jostle their arm. Sam drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out as Zachariah dropped their shirt onto the bed.

Zachariah’s gaze moved over Sam’s chest, their arms. _“Shit,”_ he murmured.

Edrissa’s hackles raised.

“Y-yeah,” Sam croaked. “It’s… it’s from—”

“L-looks like Isaac’s scars,” Zachariah said softly. Edrissa blinked, her gaze moving between them both.

Sam swallowed hard. “Well… it was from… um… Gavin. From before he changed and… and after.”

Zachariah leaned back, and Edrissa stayed pressed against his back, watching Sam.

Sam wet their lips. “Um…”

“If you don’t want your shirt off,” Zachariah said gently, “Then you don’t have to have your shirt off.”

Warmth rose in Edrissa’s chest. She pressed her lips to Zachariah’s shoulder, suddenly embarrassed at herself. Of _course,_ Zachariah would be kind about Sam’s scars. After everything she’d seen, every moment she’d spent with Zachariah, every time he showed his gentleness, his kindness, of _course_ she should know better. She silently cursed herself.

“No,” Sam breathed. “It’s… it’s fine. I’m… It’s fine. I just… as long as you’re—”

“Please don’t ask me if I’m cool with it,” Zachariah murmured, and pulled Sam into a kiss. “Please don’t,” he mumbled against their lips.

Sam groaned, and their eyes fluttered shut as they sucked gently on Zachariah’s lower lip. “Ah. Okay.”

Edrissa pressed her lips to Zachariah’s ear, and he gasped. Sam opened their eyes and pulled back, their gaze locking with Edrissa’s as she licked and nibbled the shell of Zachariah’s ear. Edrissa grinned, and her lips stilled on Zachariah’s ear.

“Do you want us?” she whispered. For a moment, she felt her command of the room, felt the way Zachariah’s body shivered under _her_ touch, because of _her_ words. Icy pleasure punched through her at the feeling.

Sam moved their hips against Zachariah’s again, and Zachariah’s eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open in a gasp. “ _Ah,_ y-yes, _yes_ …” He brushed his hands up Sam’s sides, carefully avoiding the whip marks on their back, mostly healed by now.

“Hm,” Edrissa murmured, her lips curving up into a smile she couldn’t seem to push down, even as she tried to hold her mouth in a serious expression. She got off the bed and stood beside Sam, just close enough to touch. A blush colored her cheeks even as she moved her hands to the waistband of her own pants and began to ease them off her hips, leaving her underwear in place. Sam and Zachariah both watched her with open mouths.

“This is all the clothes I want to take off today,” she announced, her voice shaking despite her light tone. Their gazes felt like physical touches on her skin.

“Th-that’s fine,” Zachariah stuttered.

“You’re beautiful,” Sam mumbled at the exact same time.

Edrissa’s flush deepened and she climbed up onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard with an impish grin on her face. She held out her hand. “Come here, Zachariah,” she said softly. “I want to kiss you while Sam gets you ready.”

Zachariah let out a sort of strangled whimper, and Edrissa almost tilted her head back to drink in the heady sound. Zachariah looked back to Sam and planted a kiss on their cheek.

“I, uh…” He swallowed hard. “I need to, um—”

Sam carefully got to their feet. Their eyes stayed fixed on Zachariah as he crawled to the headboard, his own gaze fixed on Edrissa, who looked right back at him. Her stomach flipped as she stared into his light brown eyes, rimmed with thick black lashes. She placed her hands on Zachariah’s shoulders and guided him to sit back against her; she felt so small next to him, and her chest stirred with heat as she pictured herself and Sam, together, having sex with this gorgeous, tall, kind-hearted man.

Edrissa settled Zachariah back against her, her legs stretching out along his sides. His head rested on her shoulder. She drew her fingers gently through his hair, and he turned his head to look at her, looking as helpless as Edrissa suddenly felt under his gaze. He reached up with one hand and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She shivered under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and pulled her in for a kiss. Her eyes slid shut.

Edrissa heard the sound of a zipper opening, and her eyes flew open. She broke the kiss with Zachariah and turned towards the sound. Sam was looking at her, biting their lip, their left hand at the front of their pants. She watched Sam as they pulled their pants and underwear off, stepped out of them with one foot, and gracelessly flicked them across the room with their other. She laughed with them as they stumbled towards the bed. Their cock was already stiff between their legs as they crawled onto the bed, keeping off their right hand, and pressed a kiss to Zachariah’s mouth.

Zachariah moaned and rolled his hips up against Sam’s. Sam broke the kiss and leaned forward to kiss Edrissa, their lips so soft, so gentle on hers. They pressed their forehead against hers, then pulled away and pulled a bottle of lube out of their nightstand.

Again they leaned forward and pressed their lips against Zachariah’s, and Edrissa felt his breaths come faster, almost panting against Sam’s mouth. They brushed their lips against his cheek, then lower, across his throat, then across his broad chest, down his abdomen, to the waistband of his tattered jeans. Edrissa savored the feeling of Zachariah trembling against her. Sam grinned as they looked up at Zachariah, then slowly placed their left hand on his belt.

They fumbled with the buckle, a brief expression of frustration passing over their face as their right hand remained by their side.

“Here,” Zachariah panted, and reached down to unbuckle the belt himself.

“I can do it,” Sam said, a little forcefully. Zachariah’s hand froze in the air above the belt. Sam took his hand and gently kissed the knuckles. “I can do it,” they said a little more gently. Zachariah nodded and leaned back against Edrissa, his back to her chest.

Sam let out a quiet breath when they unbuckled Zachariah’s belt and popped the snap button of his jeans. Zachariah’s gaze flicked between Sam and Edrissa, his chest heaving in breaths that came faster and faster, his eyes on Sam’s hand at his waistband, then on Edrissa’s lips as she smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, then breaking the kiss to look back to Sam’s hands. Stretched between them, his body trembling with their touches. Edrissa couldn’t remember a time when she felt so powerful.

Sam smiled. They eased down Zachariah’s zipper and pulled Zachariah’s pants and underwear off his hips, down off his legs until he lay naked in the bed, beautiful and helpless to their touch. Sam’s lips quirked up into an even wider smile as they popped the cap off the lube and slicked their fingers.

“Ready?” they murmured.

Zachariah met their gaze with a look that was near desperation. He bit his lip and nodded vigorously. “Y-yeah, please, please…”

Sam gently slid one finger inside Zachariah. He gasped and spread his legs farther apart, his eyes rolling back as he tipped his head back against Edrissa’s shoulder. His hand fisted in the sheets, and his other hand went to his cock. He stroked himself as Sam pressed further inside him.

Edrissa reached down and gently grasped Zachariah’s wrists. She pulled his hands away, bringing them up behind her head. Her heart beat faster as he laced his fingers together behind her head. He whimpered softly as Edrissa ran her hand across his chest, down his abdomen, and brushed across his pelvis, just above his cock. She met Sam’s eyes with a devious grin and took Zachariah’s cock in her hand. Zachariah jerked his hips up into her hand and moaned softly at her touch.

Edrissa covered his mouth with her other hand and tilted his head back against her shoulder as she stroked him again. She gasped at the jolt of pleasure that overtook her as she looked at him, at his eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttering shut, the heat of his breath warming her hand as he opened his mouth and moaned. She stroked Zachariah, keeping rhythm with Sam fucking him with their finger. Zachariah’s muffled whimpers and moans rose in volume and pitch as Sam added a second finger.

Warmth poured through her as her gaze moved over Zachariah’s body, shuddering against her, muscles pulled taut under the skin as Sam prepared him. He rolled his hips against Sam’s fingers, almost fucking himself on them, sweat starting to shimmer on his skin. When Sam added a third finger, Zachariah bucked and cried out against Edrissa’s hand. He moaned as she canted his head to the side and kissed her way down his neck.

Zachariah’s chest heaved as Edrissa pulled her hand away from his mouth. “P-please,” he breathed. “I’m, I’m ready, _please_ …”

Edrissa pressed a kiss to Zachariah’s neck, and his eyes rolled back, his lips trembling. “Hm,” she murmured. Her hand stilled on Zachariah’s cock, and he whined softly, rolling his hips up against her head, desperate. She met Sam’s gaze. “Sam,” she said softly, her stomach fluttering with anticipation and pleasure. “I want you where I am now.”

Sam gently pulled their fingers out of Zachariah, their own eyes hazy with want. Zachariah released his hold behind Edrissa’s head and pushed himself forward on his hands and knees, breathing hard like he’d been running. Edrissa slipped off the bed and watched as Sam crawled forward and took her place, sitting back against the headboard. She bit her lip and wondered if their whip marks hurt. She blinked and shook herself.

Edrissa sat down on the bed and took Zachariah’s face in her hands. He looked back at her, his eyes glazed with want, his lips parted, his gaze fixed on her face. Heat curled in her stomach. She smiled and kissed him gently.

As she pulled away, she brushed her thumb across Zachariah’s mouth. “Zachariah,” she murmured. “Do you want Sam to f-fuck you?”

“Yes,” Zachariah breathed. Edrissa trembled and felt a stir of heat between her legs at the need in his voice.

“I want you facing me,” Edrissa whispered, her fingers stroking gently through Zachariah’s hair. “I want Sam to fuck you with you facing me.”

Zachariah scrambled to obey. He crawled backward on his knees, straddling Sam’s legs, pushing back against them until his ass pressed against their cock. Sam reached over to the nightstand and pulled a condom from the drawer. They tore the package with their teeth and pulled the condom from the packaging, fumbling in their haste as they rolled it on. They reached for the lube again and quickly slicked their cock. They leaned forward and pressed their lips against Zachariah’s back, between his shoulder blades. Zachariah gasped and arched back before he fell forward onto his hands and knees. Over his shoulder, Edrissa met Sam’s eyes. Their cheeks were flushed pink, their eyes shining in the dim light of the setting sun coming through the window.

Sam placed their numb hand on Zachariah’s hip. Zachariah followed the touch, raising his hips up as they lined themself up with him. Slowly, so slowly, Zachariah pushed himself back and slid down onto Sam’s cock. Sam’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and Zachariah’s mouth fell open with a moan.

Sam moaned with him, and Edrissa trembled from the helpless sound of their voices. Zachariah leaned forward, then back again, pushing Sam a little deeper each time until his ass sat flush with Sam’s hips. Sam panted and gently gripped Zachariah’s hips, easing him up and pushing him down harder _._ Zachariah let out a low, throaty groan and rocked his hips back against Sam’s.

Edrissa moved from her seat on the bed and crawled towards them both. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and straddled Sam’s lower legs, settling her weight gently in front of Zachariah. He looked up at her helplessly, his mouth open, his eyes glazed, and he reached out with one hand to cup her face and pull her in for a soft kiss. Her eyes slid shut. His lips trembled on hers, and he rocked back and forth with his movement against Sam.

She ached with want, shivered against his lips. She felt the urge to open her own lips, explore his mouth with her tongue – and blinked her eyes open with the force of that desire. She pulled back slightly, and Zachariah’s eyes were open and watching her. She felt a shiver of fear, a faraway brush of disgust at the thought of his tongue in her mouth – but she wasn’t thinking of _his_ tongue. There was someone else, someone she shuddered to remember.

She was safe here. She could keep her clothes on. She could say no.

“Zachariah,” she whispered.

His throat bobbed as he looked back at her. “Y-yes?” he croaked.

“I want to, um…” Zachariah stopped moving against Sam, and they were both looking at her with almost identical expressions of curiosity and concern. She wet her lips and blew out a deep breath. “I want to, um… kiss you. With tongue.”

Zachariah’s gaze went hazy with want. “Okay,” he sighed. “You, um… you tell me if you… don’t like it.”

“I will,” Edrissa said softly. She leaned forward, sliding her fingers through Zachariah’s thick black hair before her hand fisted in it, dragging Zachariah’s head back. The pain only seemed to push him deeper into his desire. Her other hand slid around his throat, gentle as a butterfly’s wing. She closed her eyes and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. She ached with want. She welcomed it and pressed her lips against Zachariah’s. She parted her lips and ran her tongue gently along his lower lip. She shivered when he met his tongue with hers – but she didn’t feel sick. She didn’t pull away. She sighed and pushed the kiss deeper.

Zachariah moaned against her lips and began to roll his hips against Sam’s. Heat poured through Edrissa, and her fingers tightened, just slightly, around Zachariah’s neck. Desire rose in her, sharp as a knife, as she felt his pulse beating hard and fast against her thumb. She pulled away and looked over Zachariah’s shoulder at her sweet Sam, whose brown eyes were shining with happiness, hazy with want. She smiled at the heat building between her legs, sweet and good and _safe._ Her heart squeezed in her chest as Sam gave her a warm smile.

“Sam,” she murmured. She pressed a kiss to the side of Zachariah’s head. “Hold his wrists.”

Delight curled in her belly as Zachariah whined softly, the sound thick with want. He put his hands behind his back and Sam crossed his wrists, pinning them down against his back with their left hand. Their right hand rested on Zachariah’s hip, their thumb stroking the skin gently in small, jerky movements.

Zachariah rocked back harder against Sam, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the room. Each moan and sigh of pleasure that came from them both stirred the heat in Edrissa’s chest. Keeping her hand locked in Zachariah’s hair, she trailed the other down his chest, wondering, for a moment, what it would be like to touch herself while Sam fucked Zachariah.

Her hand jerked. No, not yet. Her stomach still dipped uncomfortably at the idea of touching herself when she was _alone._ She couldn’t do that with them. Not yet, at least.

Instead, she gently took Zachariah’s cock in hand and gave a firm stroke.

Zachariah cried out and jerked his hips into Edrissa’s hand. Sam groaned and tilted their head back against the headboard.

“D-do that again, Edrissa,” Sam rasped. “Please.”

Edrissa couldn’t help herself – she smirked and stroked Zachariah again. Her breath caught in her chest at the _noises_ they both made.

She leaned forward and brought her lips to Zachariah’s ear. “I want you to fuck Sam harder,” she breathed, and savored how Zachariah gasped and immediately obeyed her, drawing a moan from Sam’s lips, too.

Back, and Zachariah pushed onto Sam’s cock. Forward, he fucked into her hand. Faster and faster he rocked his hips, sweat shining on the dark, gorgeous tan of his skin and dampening his hair. Edrissa jerked Zachariah’s head back further and kissed him fiercely, her tongue pressing deep into his mouth, her teeth grazing his lips. Zachariah moaned and writhed and sweat under Edrissa’s hands, and Sam could barely speak as Zachariah fucked them, hard, at Edrissa’s command.

They were both perfectly helpless, entirely at her mercy. And that thought burned so hot inside her, she felt that she might burst if she didn’t touch herself and bring herself pleasure that way.

_Not yet._ Next time, perhaps, but not yet.

Zachariah’s voice rose and rose until it was a near-constant whine, a litany of wordless pleas, his lips trembling against Edrissa’s as he chased his climax. She felt his cock twitch in her hand, once, twice, before he came all over her hand, his entire body going rigid as he cried out against her lips. He slumped forward in her grasp, breathing hard, kissing softly against her mouth, her cheek, anything that he could reach. He whimpered softly as he shuddered.

“You’re not done,” Edrissa murmured against his lips. She relished how he trembled against her. “Keep going… until Sam comes, too.”

Zachariah gasped as he pushed back onto Sam’s cock, then bucked as he pushed his cock into her hand. Edrissa released him and wiped her hand on Sam’s shirt, discarded on the bed. Her gaze moved over Sam and Zachariah together as Zachariah rolled his hips against Sam’s. He pulled his hands out of Sam’s grip to brace himself against the mattress, rocking back harder and harder until the sound of skin on skin filled the room again, louder than before. The bed jolted with each movement, and Edrissa pulled Zachariah forward into another deep kiss. Sam gripped Zachariah’s hips again, and their fingertips went white against his skin as their voice rose higher and their eyes squeezed shut. Finally they went rigid against the headboard, and their mouth fell open as they came hard.

Edrissa’s own chest heaved as she watched Sam and Zachariah, both of them quivering, sweating, and overcome with ecstasy. She breathed deeply and felt the thrum of her own pulse in her veins. Sam and Zachariah were unraveled, completely at her mercy – and still, _still,_ she was clothed, and only touched the way she wanted. Her eyes burned with tears and she blinked them away.

Zachariah looked dazed as he leaned forward and groaned softly as Sam pulled out of him. He turned to help Sam pull off the condom, knot it, and drop it into the trashcan. This time, Sam let him help.

Zachariah took Edrissa’s hand and pulled her towards the head of the bed. He laid down in the middle of the bed and opened his arms out to the side, inviting Sam and Edrissa to lay down beside him. Edrissa grinned at Sam and leaned over Zachariah to press a kiss to their smiling lips. Sam laughed softly, their goofy smile lighting up their entire face. Edrissa stretched out beside Zachariah and settled against his side with her head on his shoulder. Sam did the same. The room smelled like sweat and sex, and for the first time in years, Edrissa didn’t shudder at the smell. She reached over and laced her fingers through Sam’s, gripping to keep their paralyzed hand in her grasp. She tilted her head back, seeking Zachariah’s mouth. He smiled and lingered on the kiss.


	11. The Beach Episode

The first thing Gavin became aware of was a faint, stabbing pain behind his left eye. His eyelids fluttered open, and he winced as the hot, dull ache stabbed through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light that filtered in through the curtains and assaulted him. He groaned, his hands pulling into fists, and curled into a ball under the blanket.

“Gavin?” came Isaac’s soft, concerned murmur.

“Nnngh,” Gavin moaned, swallowing the saliva that pooled in his mouth as his stomach heaved. “H-head, _agh_ …” He whimpered softly and winced as even the sound of his own voice seemed to crush his brain against the inside of his skull.

Cool, gentle fingers carded through Gavin’s hair, and he cracked his eyes open to see Isaac lying next to him on the pillow, his eyebrows pulled together in worry. “Another migraine?” Isaac whispered.

Gavin’s head moved a fraction on an inch in a weak nod. He blew out a slow breath between his lips. “Y-yeah,” he rasped. His eyes slid shut.

The mattress jostled as Isaac smoothly pushed himself out of bed. Gavin longed to reach out and pull Isaac back down to the bed and beg him to be _held,_ just beg for Isaac to stay with him through what Gavin knew would be an agonizing day. He lay perfectly still, trying even to stop his own heartbeat, just to relieve the pounding ache in his head. He wet his chapped lips and curled harder into himself.

“I can go get your medicine,” Isaac whispered over the sound of clothes rustling. “The riz— the migraine meds Finn brought a few days ago. We can see if that works.”

Gavin groaned his assent and tugged helplessly on his hair. He tried, desperately, to think of what helped last time – but each beat of his heart shoved away his thoughts until all he could focus on, all he could comprehend, was the pain of each second that crept by.

The door creaked open, the sound thundering through his brain, and Gavin was alone. He trembled beneath the blanket, his skin breaking out in sweat as waves of nausea rocked through him. He rolled onto his other side and let his head hang against the edge of the mattress, just in case he had to throw up. After a long moment, the door creaked again, and Gavin could hear the sound of Isaac’s bare feet on the rug as he walked to Gavin’s side. The mattress dipped under Isaac’s weight. Gavin’s stomach lurched with the feeling, and he opened his eyes.

“Here,” Isaac whispered. He held out a light orange, oval-shaped pill in his fingers. Gavin moved to take it from him and sucked in a breath as the movement sent pain exploding through his head.

Isaac pressed his mouth into a hard line and gently held the pill to Gavin’s lips. Gavin let Isaac drop the pill into his mouth, and shivered as Isaac cupped his chin and held a glass of water to his lips. He took a long sip and slumped against the mattress again. He prayed he wouldn’t throw up the water, and the pill, before it had time to kick in. If it helped at all.

“Finn said it should kick in within an hour,” Isaac whispered.

The pain spiked through Gavin’s head at the thought of relief. “Hmmn,” he groaned. He closed his eyes and tipped his head to the touch when Isaac drew his fingers through Gavin’s hair again. That seemed to bring a hint of relief. “Wh-what…” He swallowed hard. “Do you need to go into town today?”

“No,” Isaac said softly. “No, I can stay home today. Although, when I went to get your meds, the others were talking about heading down to the lake and maybe bringing a picnic lunch. Finn and Ellis are pretty much moved into their new house. It sounds like Gray and Edrissa wanted to have a going-away party for them, even though they’ll be right down the road.” Isaac huffed out a laugh. “I think Edrissa’s going to bake a cake.”

“You should go,” Gavin groaned. “I’m… ‘m good.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and sparks seemed to shoot through his head.

Isaac’s fingers paused in their path from Gavin’s temple to the back of his neck. “But I can stay here with you,” he murmured.

Gavin whimpered and reached up, lacing his fingers through Isaac’s. “But… if it’s their last d-day… _fuck me,_ if, if it’s their last day at this house, then you sh-should… ahh…”

“But—”

“They’re your… _family,_ Isaac.” Gavin wondered if he would be able to fall back asleep if Isaac left. Maybe, if he could lie in the dark and not move, maybe his head wouldn’t explode…

“You’re my family, too,” Isaac breathed. He squeezed Gavin’s fingers. “And you’re… you’re s-sick.”

“I’ll have plenty of migraines you can help me with,” Gavin said bitterly. “Isaac… _please,_ go, I want you to have a, um, a g-good… Fuck, this is worse than before…” He gagged weakly. The mattress lurched as Isaac lunged for the wastebasket and thrust it under Gavin’s chin. Gavin shuddered and swallowed bile, pressing his face against the sheets. He _wanted_ Isaac to stay, but the pain ratcheted higher, like a railroad spike being driven into his left eye socket, at the thought of Isaac missing Finn and Ellis on their last day at home. His throat clicked dryly as he swallowed. “Isaac…”

“I can get you a cold compress,” Isaac said weakly. “Would that help?”

“Um… I don’t know,” Gavin groaned, ready to scream from the pain and knowing the sound would shatter him if he did.

“Okay. I’ll go… I’ll go get one.” Isaac’s fingers slid out of Gavin’s grip, and the mattress dipped as he stood.

Gavin drifted in the pain, his heartbeat marking the time as it crawled by. He jumped when something cool pressed against the back of his neck. He hadn’t even heard Isaac come in over the pounding in his head.

Gavin sighed as the compress pushed away the pain, just a little. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Isaac said softly. “Do you… Gavin, if you really want me to go—”

“Once the meds start working, I’ll come out and join you,” Gavin ground out through his teeth. “Right now I just… need to focus on not… _ahh_ …”

“Okay,” Isaac said quickly, and Gavin’s heart wrenched at the concern he could hear in his voice. “Okay. If you, um…” The compress shifted as Isaac pulled his hand away, and Gavin reached up to hold it in place. “I’ll come check on you in a few hours if you’re not out by then.”

“S-sounds like a plan,” Gavin breathed. He twisted against the sheets, desperate to find a position that would take off the pressure he could feel building in his head.

“I love you,” Isaac whispered, and Gavin felt the soft press of a kiss into his hair. His heart thudded in his chest.

“Love you, too,” Gavin whispered back. After a long moment, the soft sound of Isaac padding to the door and the creak as he shut it stabbed into Gavin’s brain like hot knives.

He whimpered softly and pressed the cold compress against the back of his own neck. It cooled his damp hair. Each heartbeat rocked through his head, each breath whooshed in and out of him, each moment crashed over him in another wave of agony. He drifted in the pain.

∴

Gavin blinked his eyes open. He squinted in the dim light filtering through the curtains and stirred beneath the sheets. The cool compress on the back of his neck made him shiver. He swallowed, and his throat felt dry.

The pain in his head was gone.

Tears of pure relief stung Gavin’s eyes. His chest swelled with gratitude for Finn and the pill that had taken away his pain. He experimentally pushed himself up off the bed. The room swam oddly around him.

He put a hand to his head and groaned. It was as if a thick fog had settled inside his brain, blunting the edges, dulling each thought. Still, his stomach felt settled, and the light no longer stabbed into his eyes. He dropped the cold compress onto the nightstand and sat up.

There was a pair of dark blue swim trunks lying at the foot of the bed.

Tears blurred Gavin’s vision all over again. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and clumsily got to his feet, wobbling slightly before he got his balance.

_I don’t remember feeling this weird after._

Gavin shuffled forward and pulled the swim trunks on. After a moment, he crossed to the dresser and took out a t-shirt. He pulled it on over his head and shivered as it settled on the scars on his back. His fingers drifted over his chest, just below his right collarbone, over the scar there. His scar matched the one on Gray’s left side.

He shook his head and pushed the door open. As he wandered down the hall, the house was silent. Even as his head swam, he made his way to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He caught himself staring at himself in the mirror, his gaze flicking between the scar on the bridge of his nose, to the one on his cheek, to the one stretching from the outer corner of his left eye and up into his hairline. Isaac always kissed those scars in exactly that order. Gavin blinked and bent over his rinse out his mouth.

Gavin wandered towards the back of the house with a strange, detached feeling. It was almost as if, as he moved through the air, it was thicker than normal. He seemed to notice everything a second after it happened. He walked through the laundry room and pushed open the back door, blinking in the sudden sun.

It wasn’t quite overhead, but then – it never got that high, this far north. Even in mid-June, the sun still cast shadows at noon. Gavin stumbled out into the long grass of the backyard and wandered down towards the lake.

Gavin blinked again; the day was stunning. The sun was warm on his face, and a gentle breeze ruffled his hair, still slightly damp with his own sweat. It was just warm enough that he didn’t shiver in his t-shirt and trunks. The sun glittered on the surface of the lake, and his feet brushed through the grass as it gave way to rough, granite-gray sand. Gavin drew in a deep breath and felt a smile pull at his lips.

Down near the lake, Finn and Ellis sat on the same electric blue towel, Ellis’s legs draped over Finn’s, both of them turned towards the water. Zachariah stood waist-deep in the water, joyously fending off Edrissa and Sam as they both climbed him like a tree, Edrissa’s squeals and Sam’s laughter carrying over the water. As Gavin watched, Zachariah’s large hands closed around Edrissa’s waist and he heaved her farther into the lake. She disappeared beneath its surface with a splash and shot above the surface again, shrieking with laughter, her pale skin flushed red from the coldness of the water. She flipped her soaking wet hair over her shoulder before she clumsily swam to Zachariah and threw her arms around his neck. She planted a kiss on his cheek before he hoisted her and hurled her back into the water, laughing the whole time.

Tori and Vera stood at the edge of the water in their own bathing suits, their arms around each other’s waists. Even twenty yards away, Gavin could see how Vera’s scars stood out pale against the dark brown of her skin, and Tori’s scars shone pink over her black skin. Vera’s had faded with time. Tori’s would, too. They both laughed as Sam climbed, one-handed, onto Zachariah’s back and wrapped their legs around his waist. Zachariah ducked his head as Sam pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

Warmth curled in Gavin’s chest at the sight of Sam, Edrissa, and Zachariah together. _I was wondering when that was going to happen._

Gray sat in a lawn chair turned towards the lake with a t-shirt and shorts, and a straw hat keeping off the sun. Gavin couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in his throat as he looked at Gray and thought, _they look retired._

At the sound of his laugh, Isaac looked up from where he knelt in the sand, pawing through a basket set on top of another towel, this one a blaring yellow. Gavin felt Isaac’s gaze like a thump in his chest. His smile stretched wider as he made his way to Isaac’s side.

Gray glanced up, and Gavin realized they were holding a glass of lemonade in their hand.

_All they need is a book, and the look is complete._

“Hey!” Gray said with a grin. “He lives!”

“Yeah,” Gavin mumbled, and blushed as Isaac wound an arm around Gavin’s waist and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That medicine, um, did the trick.”

Finn glanced over and perked up when they saw Gavin. “Oh, hey!” they said, gently guiding Ellis’s legs off of theirs and climbing to their feet. “You feeling better?”

“Um, yeah,” Gavin said as he looked down at his own sandy feet. “I’m a little dizzy, but…”

“Yeah, that can be a side effect,” Finn said, and chewed their lip. “You feeling anything else? Pins and needles? You drowsy?”

“Yeah, a little drowsy,” Gavin murmured. He glanced up and flushed an even more painful red when he realized Finn, Ellis, Gray, and Isaac all had their eyes on him. “Sorry I, um—”

“You should be,” Ellis sniped, and they climbed to their feet and picked up the towel. Gavin found his gaze flicking to their abdomen, hidden behind a black one-piece bathing suit. They still weren’t showing, and probably wouldn’t be for another month or two. That’s what their baby book said. He blinked and returned his gaze to their face.

“We were waiting on you to have lunch,” Ellis said with a roll of their eyes, although their cutting voice was softened by a slight smile.

“No, we weren’t,” Isaac said with a playful grimace in Ellis’s direction. He looked back at Gavin. “I was just going to come get you. You hungry?”

Gavin’s stomach grumbled. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I am, actually. Really hungry.”

“Good,” Isaac said. Gavin melted at the smile shining on Isaac’s face.

Ellis turned to the others still in the water. “Hey, young people!” they shouted. “Get your asses over here, it’s time to eat!”

Zachariah stopped mid-toss, holding Edrissa out over the water, as his head snapped towards the shore. Edrissa shrieked as he dropped her unceremoniously into the water with a laugh and began to trudge toward shore, Sam still latched on like a barnacle. Edrissa giggled as she grabbed Zachariah’s arm and let him pull her to shore.

As Zachariah reached the edge of the water, Sam slipped off his back and landed lightly in the sand. Edrissa scrambled out of the water and tucked herself under Zachariah’s arm, shivering. Her lips were blue as she turned her head and kissed his shoulder. Gavin smiled.

“Glad you’re feeling better,” Sam said through chattering teeth. They made their way over to a pile of towels beside Gray’s chair and toweled off their hair, then wrapped the towel around their shoulders. “The rizatriptan worked?”

“How come everyone can say it but me?” Isaac mumbled at Gavin’s side.

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and took another towel for him and Isaac to sit on. “Doing a _lot_ better.” He spread out the towel next to the basket and pulled Isaac down to sit next to him. Isaac’s scars shone almost white in the sun. Gavin laced his fingers through Isaac’s.

“I spent all morning getting this ready,” Edrissa said as the knelt by the picnic and began pulling out containers of food and sandwiches wrapped in napkins. “Potato salad for everyone… Egg salad for Ellis…” She passed the sandwich to Ellis. “Turkey for Finn, PB&J for Sam, turkey for Gray, tomato mozzarella pesto for Vera, ham for Tori, double turkey for Zachariah, mozzarella pesto for me…” she murmured as she passed out each sandwich. “Chicken salad for Isaac, Gavin I made one of those for you, too…”

Gavin gratefully took the sandwich from Edrissa and pulled away the cloth napkin. His stomach growled again, and louder. Edrissa kept pulling food out of the basket. “Pickles, olives – gross, chips… these chips are really good, they’re made by this married couple in Burmingham, they fry them in peanut oil, you have to try them… cookies…” A small pile of food was spread out on the towel next to the basket. “And if anyone wants more lemonade, I can just bring the pitcher…”

“Yes please,” came the chorus of replies.

Edrissa scrambled to her feet. “I’ll go grab it,” she said.

“I’ll help,” Zachariah said with a grin.

“I’ll come, too,” Sam said as they tripped after them.

Gavin smiled and wondered how much time the three of them were going to spend actually bringing the lemonade.

As Gavin looked around at his family, he smiled even wider. Vera was laughing as she kissed Tori, and Tori’s eyes were bright, focused, clear. Gray looked more relaxed than Gavin had ever seen them. Ellis and Finn had spread out their towel again next to the food, and Ellis was swatting away Finn’s attempts to tickle them through peals of laughter.

And Isaac… Gavin allowed himself a moment to look at Isaac, and was instantly, desperately lost. Isaac stared right back at him, the look in his brown eyes making Gavin’s stomach lurch like he was falling. Isaac reached over and laced his fingers through Gavin’s. For a moment, Gavin thought his heart might burst with happiness.

Isaac leaned forward and brushed his lips against Gavin’s scars: nose, cheek, eye. Gavin turned his head and sought Isaac’s lips with his. He smiled when Isaac lingered on the kiss.

“Oh, get a room,” Ellis said good-naturedly. Gavin broke the kiss, and his cheeks blazed.

“May as well start eating,” Gray said with a laugh. “Who knows when those three will be back. Apparently getting drinks is a strenuous three-person job.”

Gavin took a bite of his sandwich as he looked out across the lake. The wind stirred the trees on the opposite shore.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explicit consensual sex

Gavin shivered and yawned on the couch. The sun still shone into the windows, low in the sky, not yet behind the trees on the opposite side of the lake. His head felt clearer now, the effects of the rizatriptan worn off. His headache hadn’t returned. He covered his mouth with his hand and blinked away the water that the yawn brought to his eyes.

“Tired?” Isaac said where he sat on the couch next to Gavin.

A smile pulled at Gavin’s lips as he brought his gaze to Isaac. They were alone in the living room; Finn and Ellis had driven to their new house in one of the cars, a long goodbye for such a short distance between them now. Still, Gavin understood. The family had never been separated before. Sam, Edrissa, and Zachariah had elected to walk around the lake after dinner, giggling and holding hands as they left. Gray was already asleep. Vera and Tori were in the backyard, ready to watch the coming sunset that was just barely turning the clouds a golden hue.

Isaac’s eyes were warm and bright, his cheeks and forehead just slightly tanned from his day in the sun. His sandy blond hair was tousled by the wind, and Gavin reached out and ran his fingers through it. The smile pulling at Isaac’s lips widened. His gaze flicked down to Gavin’s lips.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Um, yeah,” he said, a little awkwardly. “Tired.”

Isaac nodded. “Did you want to go to bed?” he said gently, still keeping his voice low even though Gavin’s migraine had been gone for most of the day.

“Um…” Gavin flushed and looked down, pulling his hand back and resting it awkwardly in his lap. “Bed, yeah, but… sleep…” He glanced up at Isaac again and wondered if his heart would ever stop beating harder when he met Isaac’s light brown eyes. “I want… I’d like…”

Isaac leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Gavin’s lips.

Gavin sighed and cradled Isaac’s face. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled against Isaac’s lips. “This.”

Isaac broke the kiss and got to his feet. He held out a hand to Gavin with a conspiratory smile on his face. “Let’s go, then,” he said softly. Gavin slid his hand into Isaac’s and let Isaac pull him up from the couch.

As they made their way down the hall to their room, Gavin’s fingers laced through Isaac’s and squeezed. Isaac squeezed back. Isaac pulled Gavin into their room and before Gavin could say anything, Isaac had Gavin pushed up against the closed door, Isaac’s mouth moving with his, hot and urgent and breathless.

Gavin sighed as Isaac’s hands moved to the hem of Gavin’s shirt and pulled it up over his chest. “Isaac…”

“Hmm?” Isaac gripped Gavin’s waist, and Gavin gasped at the feeling of Isaac’s fingertips pressing into his skin.

Gavin pulled Isaac against him, his heart fluttering in his chest as he savored the feeling of Isaac’s body pressing him back against the door. Gavin raised his hands to let Isaac pull his shirt off over his head, and then fumbled to remove Isaac’s. Both shirts dropped to the floor and Gavin stepped forward, pushing Isaac to the bed.

“I w-want…” Isaac rasped against Gavin’s lips. “I… Gavin, I want—”

“Anything,” Gavin breathed, his cock already hardening as Isaac sat on the bed and pulled Gavin down to straddle him. Gavin rolled his hips against Isaac’s and shivered at the friction. He brushed his lips against Isaac’s shoulder, then pressed his lips to Isaac’s again, panting against his mouth. “I… Isaac, what do you want?” He pulled back and studied Isaac’s face, his heart pounding faster by the look of _want_ in Isaac’s eyes, the flush on his cheeks. “Tell me what you want,” Gavin whispered.

Isaac’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his gaze flicked to Gavin’s lips and back. “I, um…” He cleared his throat. “I want to try… I want you to, um… t-to fuck me,” he murmured. His lips trembled.

Gavin’s eyes went wide. _“Oh,”_ he breathed. He couldn’t push away the flash of panic, the thunderclap of shame as the memory gripped him: Isaac under him, screaming, pleading through the gag as Gavin raped Isaac in his bed, with Leo holding Isaac down. His hands shook as they settled on Isaac’s shoulders, the muscle moving under scarred skin as Isaac reached up to cup Gavin’s face.

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have to,” he said softly, his gaze darting across Gavin’s face. “We… w-we don’t. I just thought—”

“Are you…” Gavin gulped loudly in the sudden silence of the room. “I mean… are you… ready?”

Isaac chewed his lip and nodded slowly. “I think so,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to Gavin’s lips again. “I’ve been, um… th-thinking about it. A lot. And I… want to.”

Nausea curled in Gavin’s stomach and he shuddered as Isaac’s broken screams echoed through his mind. Tears stung his eyes. “Um…”

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…_

Isaac’s mouth hardened into a line. “I can see those gears turning,” he said gently, with only a hint of a tremor in his voice. “Gavin… It wasn’t your—”

“Please,” Gavin croaked. “Please, can we… n-not…”

“We don’t have to,” Isaac said, his eyes darting between Gavin’s. “It’s alright.” He looked away.

“It’s not that I don’t… don’t _want_ you like that,” Gavin said, guiding Isaac’s head up until he looked Gavin in the eye again. “I do, I… _fuck,_ I really, really do.” His throat worked in another dry swallow. “I just… Isaac, when we… It was…”

“It was different,” Isaac said, and this time he kept his eyes riveted on Gavin’s. “It’s not the same. And I… I’m ready. If you don’t want to, then we won’t, but please… don’t… _not_ do it, just because of me.”

“It’s not _just_ because of you, Isaac, I—”

“Sorry,” Isaac murmured. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Gavin said, gently cupping Isaac’s face. Isaac looked back at him, and Gavin’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the trust, the _love_ he saw in Isaac’s eyes.

_I could never deserve—_

_Stop it. This isn’t about that._

Gavin blew out a slow breath through his lips. “Um… okay,” he rasped. “But… I want you on top.”

Isaac nodded. “Yeah, I… k-kinda wanted that, too,” he said, and his cheeks darkened.

“Alright, then,” Gavin breathed, and pushed himself to his feet. He kept his gaze on Isaac as he undid the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper, guiding the jeans and his underwear off his legs. He carefully stepped out of them and stood in front of Isaac, completely naked. “We stop, if you want to stop,” Gavin murmured. “At any point. We… we stop.”

“You, too,” Isaac said, and took Gavin’s hand. “It… happened to you, too.” Isaac’s eyes shone in the dim light of the room.

Gavin’s throat worked. “Yeah,” he croaked. He gently placed his hands on Isaac’s shoulders and guided him to lie on his back on the bed, his head supported by Gavin’s pillow. Gavin crawled between Isaac’s legs and slowly, carefully, brought his hands to Isaac’s waistband.

“Is this okay?” Gavin said softly, and brushed his fingers against the button of Isaac’s pants.

“Yeah,” Isaac whispered. “Gavin… I _want_ this. Please.” He looked at Gavin with something that bordered on _need_ , his chest moving with his breaths, his lips slightly parted. Gavin’s hands settled over the button of Isaac’s pants and snapped it open. He flushed crimson when he realized Isaac was already hard.

“Oh,” he breathed.

Isaac spread his legs wider. “Gavin, I… _please_ …”

_Nothing quite like having a handsome plaything under me panting for me to touch him._

Gavin shook himself and bit down hard on his lip as he drew down Isaac’s zipper, and pulled his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. Gavin dropped Isaac’s clothes off the side of the bed.

“Hey,” Isaac said, and Gavin looked up at him, almost startled. Isaac lay naked on the bed, leaning up on his elbows, looking at Gavin with those soft brown eyes that stirred something in Gavin’s chest every damn _time_. The concern on Isaac’s face nearly took Gavin’s breath away.

“S-sorry,” Gavin mumbled. “I didn’t think this would be, um… hard for me, too.”

“It happened to you, too,” Isaac repeated, this time his voice barely a breath.

“Yeah,” Gavin said with a nod. “Yeah, I… yeah.”

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together. “We don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Gavin said as he let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I… want to.”

Isaac kept his gaze on Gavin as he relaxed back against the pillows. “Okay,” he murmured.

Gavin felt breathless and slightly dizzy as he leaned over to grab the lube from the nightstand drawer. He slicked his fingers and looked up to see Isaac staring at him, his gaze hazy with want. Isaac’s cock twitched as he spread his legs wider, looking up at Gavin with trust and love radiating from every inch of his body.

Gavin settled himself between Isaac’s legs, sliding one leg under Isaac’s and tucking the other beneath him. He reached out and gently took Isaac’s cock in one hand. Isaac gasped out a breath, his eyes fluttering shut as Gavin stroked him once.

“Ready?” Gavin whispered.

Isaac nodded vigorously. “Y-yes,” he breathed. “Yes, yes, _please_ …”

As gently as he could, Gavin eased a finger inside Isaac.

Isaac sucked in a breath through his teeth. Gavin stroked his cock again to ease the sensation. Isaac’s toes curled as Gavin pressed his finger in deeper, deeper, until he was as deep as he could go. And still, he continued the firm strokes on Isaac’s cock. Slowly, carefully, he eased Isaac open.

Gavin’s cock throbbed as he prepared Isaac, heat coiling inside him at the sound of Isaac’s pleasure: the moans, the whimpers, the panting breaths that Isaac drew through parted lips. He quivered at Isaac’s tightness, his heat, as he added another finger.

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Isaac moaned, and Gavin froze. “Gavin…”

Gavin shivered and let out a breath. “Is it… Do you like this?” he murmured. Heat warmed his chest.

Isaac nodded jerkily, his body moving with Gavin’s hands, rolling his hips, fisting his hands in the sheets. He tipped his head back against the pillow. “M-more…”

Gavin’s heart lurched as he nodded and added a third finger.

_“Oh,”_ Isaac sighed. His eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open with a moan.

_I’m glad nobody’s in the house awake right now…_

Gavin’s own cock throbbed, painfully hard, as he eased his fingers in and out of Isaac, getting him ready, making him feel _good._ Gavin’s gaze moved over Isaac, over his scars, over the tan of his skin and the play of muscles beneath that, and he trembled. Isaac was in bed with him, Isaac was moving and moaning and wanting _him_ … And Gavin wanted him too, so badly he could barely keep his hands from shaking. His cock was painfully hard as he tried, desperately, to focus on Isaac. Isaac slowly relaxed under Gavin’s touch, so different from… before. As Isaac moved with Gavin, Gavin felt _joy._ He felt pleasure, knowing he was bringing Isaac pleasure, too.

In bed with Isaac, naked with him, Gavin felt _safe._

Gavin swallowed hard. “Isaac, um… are you… ready?”

_“Yes,”_ Isaac rasped. “Gavin…” He blinked his eyes open and turned them to Gavin. “Please…”

Gavin’s hands shook as he gently pulled his fingers out of Isaac. He reached for a condom in the nightstand and pulled out the foil packet. When he glanced up at Isaac, Isaac was looking back at him with a radiant smile on his face.

“Wh-what?” Gavin said, shivering under Isaac’s gaze. His fingers trembled as he tore open the packet.

“Nothing,” Isaac said with a hazy smile. “You’re beautiful.”

Gavin looked away and rolled the condom on. “You are, too,” he said softly. “You’re…” His voice trailed off into a whimper as he met Isaac’s eyes again.

“Come here,” Isaac whispered. He leaned forward and pulled Gavin into a kiss. Gavin’s eyes slid shut and he shivered at the feeling of Isaac’s lips on his, the press of his tongue, the heat of his breath. His mouth moved with Isaac’s and he crawled forward, his hips jerking forward as his cock slid against Isaac’s.

“Here,” Isaac said softly. He placed his hands on Gavin’s shoulders and guided him to lay down on the bed as Isaac straddled his hips. Gavin’s breath caught in his chest as he looked up at Isaac, his scars shining in the lamplight, the man he’d hurt and broken, the man who saved him.

_And I saved him._

Heat poured through Gavin’s heart at the thought. Tears welled in his eyes.

Isaac’s eyes went wide. “What is it?” he murmured, reaching down to touch Gavin’s cheek before pulling back. “Is this—”

“It’s good,” Gavin rasped. His voice cracked. “Just happy.” He blinked the tears away. “Just… really happy.”

A smile broke across Isaac’s face and he leaned forward to kiss Gavin. “Me, too,” he whispered against Gavin’s lips. After a moment, he pulled away and reached for the lube.

Gavin gasped as Isaac slicked Gavin’s cock, gently stroking as he gazed down at Gavin. Gavin’s hips jerked up into Isaac’s hand, and his mouth fell open in a moan.

“Isaac…”

Isaac smiled and raised himself up over Gavin, positioning Gavin’s cock with one hand and bracing himself on the mattress with the other. For a moment, Gavin held Isaac’s gaze, his skin tingling with anticipation. Isaac slowly slid down onto Gavin’s cock.

Gavin bit down on the moan that broke from him. Isaac sighed with him as he rose up again, slid down again, gently letting Gavin fill him, inch by inch. Gavin clutched at Isaac’s thighs, his eyes rolling back, as Isaac slowly adjusted to Gavin’s cock, slowly took him in until Isaac’s hips sat flush with Gavin’s. They sat still for a moment, chests heaving together, as Gavin gazed up at Isaac.

Isaac’s eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed, his mouth smiling widely. He braced his hands on Gavin’s chest. “You okay?” Isaac said with a laugh.

“Uh…” Gavin licked his lips as he met Isaac’s eyes, stunned. “Um…” Isaac rolled his hips once, and Gavin’s vision went white with a burst of pleasure. _“Ahh…”_

“Yeah,” Isaac whispered as he leaned down for a kiss. “Me, too.” He ran his tongue along Gavin’s bottom lip. Gavin closed his eyes and opened his mouth to Isaac, helpless, his head tilted back against the pillow. As Isaac pulled away Gavin opened his eyes, his lips trembling. He jerked his hips up into Isaac’s, and Isaac fell forward with a cry. Gavin licked his lips. The air felt electric on his skin.

Isaac braced himself up and took his own cock in hand. He whimpered and moaned as he stroked himself, rolling his hips against Gavin’s. Gavin let out a breathy moan and trembled with each new wave of pleasure.

Gavin drew his hands up Isaac’s thighs, over his hips, running up Isaac’s sides and back down again, tracing Isaac’s body, feeling the warmth of Isaac’s skin. His fingers brushed Isaac’s scars, traced the lines, curved over the unbroken skin along Isaac’s hips and legs. Back up, across Isaac’s chest, up the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. Isaac sighed as Gavin gently grasped Isaac’s hair and pulled.

“I-I… Gavin, _fuck_ …”

“You’re beautiful,” Gavin whispered. Pleasure warmed him with every move of Isaac’s hips. “I love you. I love you. I love you…”

Isaac moaned and rode Gavin harder, reaching up with one hand and bracing it against the headboard. “I l-love you, too,” he breathed. “Gavin… I…”

“I love you,” Gavin whispered again. His lips tingled with the words. His hands moved over Isaac’s body. Heat rose inside him, pleasure building in his cock as Isaac rocked against him. The bedframe squeaked with each roll of Isaac’s hips. Gavin’s lungs froze in his chest. His mouth fell open and he gasped for breath, caught in the rising tide of his orgasm.

“ _Fuck,_ you feel good,” Isaac groaned. “Gavin…”

“What do you need?” Gavin panted. He planted his heels against the bed and thrust his hips up against Isaac’s. Isaac gasped and cried out, grinding down harder onto Gavin’s cock, stroking himself faster.

“You,” Isaac whispered. “I need…” Isaac rolled his hips once, twice—

Isaac’s eyes squeezed shut and he came hard over Gavin’s stomach, his head tilted back in a helpless moan. He clenched around Gavin’s cock, and that pushed Gavin over the edge. His fingers tightened on Isaac’s hips as his orgasm rocked through him. He spilled into the condom with a cry. Pleasure crashed over him like a wave, lighting every nerve ending, filling every inch of his body.

He slumped back against the mattress, dizzy with his orgasm, as Isaac stroked himself through his. They both settled, breathing hard. Gavin brushed his fingers gently up and down Isaac’s sides until his hands rested, again, on Isaac’s hips.

“Mmn,” Isaac moaned, and sweat shimmered on his skin. Gavin swallowed as he looked up at Isaac with his mussed hair and his sweet, sleepy smile. Isaac rose up over Gavin and slowly slid off of Gavin’s cock with a groan. Gavin clumsily pulled the condom off and dropped it into the wastebasket.

Isaac grabbed a shirt off the floor and gently wiped his cum off of Gavin’s stomach. He laid down by Gavin’s side on shaking arms and curled against his chest. Gavin tucked Isaac’s head under his chin and drew the blanket up over them both with a sigh.

“I love fucking you,” Isaac mumbled, and laughed. “That was… _mmm._ ” He pressed a kiss to Gavin’s throat.

Gavin shivered at the touch and held Isaac tight to his chest. “Hmm,” he agreed wordlessly. He could feel Isaac’s heart beat fast with his own.

“We could, um… try this again some time,” Isaac said as he relaxed in Gavin’s embrace. “I… I want…”

“Yeah?” Gavin said, and gently kissed Isaac’s forehead. “Yeah, I… I would want this again.”

“Good,” Isaac sighed, his breathing becoming deep and slow. “Good.”

“Love you, Isaac,” Gavin whispered, as Isaac drifted off to sleep in his arms.

“Love you,” Isaac mumbled. A moment later, he was limp in Gavin’s arms, snoring lightly. Gavin reached over and snapped off the lamp on the nightstand. The room was lit by the soft yellow glow of the nightlight.


	13. Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally happening!!!

Gavin flinched awake to a hand clamped over his mouth. He blinked, casting his gaze around the dark room, feeling fuzzy and groggy and confused. Slowly, his eyes focused. His stomach lurched. A tall figure loomed over him, silhouetted by the nightlight. Gavin looked immediately to Isaac, and froze as terror struck him like a blow to the chest.

A man in dark clothing stood over Isaac, pointing a gun at Isaac’s head.

Gavin’s heart thundered in his chest as he realized Isaac was still sleeping soundly next to him, his eyes closed and his mouth open, breathing smoothly and slowly. Gavin looked back towards the man he could now see bending over him. He couldn’t quite make out the man’s face. The man held a finger to his lips and tilted his head at Isaac.

Gavin’s throat worked in a swallow, and he nodded desperately against the man’s hand. The man pulled his hand away from Gavin’s mouth. The other man kept the gun trained on Isaac.

The man standing at the side of Gavin’s bed held out what Gavin suddenly realized were his clothes. Gavin took them with shaking hands and slowly, carefully pulled on his pants under the blanket. He kept his eyes fixed on Isaac as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his t-shirt, praying that Isaac would stay asleep. He pulled the shirt on over his head and looked towards the man standing over him. The man beckoned towards the door with his head.

Tears sprung to Gavin’s eyes and he bit his lip as he looked back to Isaac. He felt as if freezing water had been dumped into his veins, and his hands shook so badly he could scarcely feel them. Still, as Gavin looked over at Isaac, he longed to kiss him, just to say goodbye before he was taken. Just to feel something good, before he disappeared into a car, or into a body bag.

Just to convince himself that, for a little while, Isaac had been his.

Gavin shoved down a sob as the man pointed at the door. He pushed himself out of bed, screaming silently in his own mind for Isaac to wake up and save him from being taken – and begging, just as loudly, just as silently, for Isaac to stay asleep. The first man roughly grabbed Gavin’s arm and pulled him towards the door, even as Gavin looked back at Isaac with tears running down his cheeks. The man with the gun kept his gun pointed at Isaac as he backed out of the room behind Gavin. Gavin caught one last glimpse of Isaac before the men shut the door behind him and pulled him towards the front door. Gavin could still smell Isaac, and he realized with a start that the man had given him Isaac’s shirt.

The men herded Gavin through the dark house. From the closet near the kitchen, Gavin could hear the soft hissing of the heater. He jumped as something brushed against his leg, cursing himself as he realized it was the cat, Nata. Nata meowed as he trotted beside Gavin, his reflective yellow eyes staring up at Gavin in the dark. Panicked, Gavin glanced around at the men, terrified that they would stop at the cat’s noise and turn back to kill Isaac. They both kept walking, one in front of Gavin, one behind.

When they reached the front door, the men paused to pull on their boots that they had left at the threshold. Gavin blinked as they opened the door and pushed him out into the moonlit night.

Gavin shivered in the chill as one man pulled his hands behind his back, and the other tightened a zip tie around his wrists. The cold, hard plastic of the restraint broke through Gavin’s panic for a moment as he cast about for why they would have waited to restrain him until he was outside.

The thought occurred to him a moment later: _Isaac would have woken up at the sound of a zip tie tightening._ One of the men pulled a cellphone out of his pocket and sent a quick text. The men began walking again, not pausing to let Gavin put on shoes of his own.

Gavin’s teeth chattered and his feet froze on the cold ground as the men turned to the west and began to walk him along the lane. Gavin thought he remembered the house being east of Burmingham, but he couldn’t be sure. The family had arrived at the house a month earlier in the dead of night, delirious with exhaustion. Underneath the constant, gripping cold and the sting of gravel beneath his feet, Gavin’s heart pounded in a frenzied, sickening thrum.

He glanced at both of the men. Their faces were lit by the full moon above them. Gavin didn’t recognize either of them. Neither of them spoke, just prodded Gavin forward. Their breath fogged in the cold air. Gavin’s tears cooled on his cheeks.

They could have been walking for ten minutes or an hour when Gavin thought he heard the sound of a car idling ahead. He turned his ear towards the sound and felt a deeper chill – definitely a car.

_Everyone in the house would have woken up at the sound of a car coming in the middle of the night._

Gavin whimpered quietly and kept walking. His fingers felt numb.

The sound of the idling car grew louder until Gavin could hear it coming from just down a shallow embankment by the side of the road. One of the men tightened his hand on Gavin’s arm and dragged him to the side of the car. For a moment, Gavin wondered if perhaps his cousin Mark was in the car, here to drag Gavin back to the home he’d escaped.

The guard opened the door to the backseat. The overhead light switched on in the car, revealing another guard in the driver’s seat. Gavin’s heart sank in his chest. A pit opened inside him.

Daniel Schiester sat in the passenger seat.

_I am not surviving this._

Gavin shivered at the mayor of Crayton’s cold blue eyes settling on him, and the colder smile that moved across the man’s face. Gavin flinched at the memory of the only time he’d ever met Schiester, where he’d had Gavin caned half to death and nearly hanged when he’d been discovered in the family’s midst. Schiester was the reason Gavin had had to remain under house arrest during the family’s time in Crayton; if Gavin was caught outside that house, and outside the family’s protection, their lives would be forfeit as well as Gavin’s.

That was before the family told Schiester that Gavin was dead.

Gavin’s throat worked, and more tears formed in his eyes. _Please, please don’t kill them, too. It’s not their fault._

“Hello, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said almost pleasantly.

Gavin licked his trembling lips. “My name is—” He doubled over with a cry as a fist smashed into his gut. One of the men holding him dragged him upright again. He gagged weakly in their grasp.

Schiester tilted his head. “Yes, Mx. Uriah mentioned you went by something else now.”

Gavin’s eyes widened and he gasped like he’d been dealt a second blow. “G-Gray—”

Schiester waved his hand dismissively. “No, they didn’t turn you in. They’d rather die, clearly, since that was the penalty I spelled out for harboring you.”

Gavin’s eyes streamed and he swallowed down the nausea roiling in his stomach. “P-please, don’t—”

Schiester held up his hand. “Quiet, Stormbeck,” he said lightly. “I won’t take their life tonight, nor the lives of anyone else in that _family._ ” Schiester said the last word with a hint of an edge to his voice. “They serve their purpose, and are worth more to me alive than dead. They will, however,” Schiester said with a nod, “Almost certainly come after you once they discover you’re gone. At which point they will die.”

_“N-no,”_ Gavin breathed. “Schiester, _please_ …” The plea sounded broken to his own ears. Gavin shivered violently against the guards’ hands.

Schiester shrugged. “I’ll allow you to do your part in stopping them.” He nodded at the guards still standing outside the car with Gavin. “Get him inside, please.”

The two guards shoved Gavin forward and he fell roughly into the backseat, sobbing weakly. _“P-please,”_ he rasped, staring pleadingly at Schiester. “Schiester, please, _please,_ don’t kill them, don’t k-kill…” He shuddered and pressed his lips together against the pain tearing through his chest. “It’s not their fault, please, _please, please, please, no_ …”

Schiester watched Gavin evenly. “You care about them?” he said with a voice devoid of emotion.

Gavin nodded desperately. “Y-yes,” he gasped. “Please… Th-they shouldn’t d-die because, because of _me, please_ …”

Schiester’s cold gaze moved over Gavin as he cried. “You understand that I am allowing you the chance to prevent them from coming after you. And that once you do this, I will take you to Crayton to be punished for your crimes. You’ve already been tried and convicted by private tribunal, of course.”

Gavin shivered and met Schiester’s eyes. “Please don’t kill them,” he whispered.

Schiester continued as if Gavin hadn’t said anything. “And you realize that, once you have suffered what _I_ deem appropriate for your crimes, you will be put to death.”

Gavin swallowed hard. “But you won’t… you won’t hurt my… the family?”

Schiester’s gaze pierced through Gavin. He held Gavin’s gaze for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “If you do your job and those people don’t come after you, they’ll have nothing more to fear from me.”

Gavin tasted his own tears on his lips. “Wh-what do you want me to do?” he breathed.

Schiester gestured at Gavin with his chin. “Liefeste,” he said flatly.

One of the guards still standing outside the car leaned in and pulled Gavin towards him. He drew a knife from his belt and cut the zip tie tying Gavin’s hands behind his back. Gavin rubbed at the chafed skin, staring at Schiester with hopeful terror.

Gavin flinched as Schiester reached into his coat pocket. Schiester withdrew his hand – but he was holding a piece of paper, not a gun. He set the paper on the center console and reached back into his pocket for a fountain pen that he laid across the paper.

Gavin’s throat ached as he swallowed. “What do you want me to—”

“You are going to write a letter,” Schiester said evenly. “To Isaac Moore, whom I can only assume is your lover based upon where you were found.” Schiester glanced at the guard who sent the text. “I refuse to speculate on the nature of _that_ relationship. And I cannot pretend to know what makes the others tolerate your presence.” Schiester shrugged. “You will write anything you need to write in order to convince Isaac Moore not to come for you. Assuming he can read, of course.”

Gavin blinked away his tears. “He can—”

“Then write it,” Schiester said with a wave of his hand. “If not, Isaac dies. I’ll have Liefeste bring you back something to remember him by. A lock of his hair, perhaps. Or a finger. You have three minutes.” Schiester glanced at his watch.

All the air rushed out of Gavin’s chest. His fingers shook as he picked up the fountain pen and clumsily unscrewed the lid. He leaned forward over the center console and rested his hand on the paper. His mind was a ragged mess of fear. _I can’t tell him not to come. I can’t tell him it’s too dangerous. There’s nothing I can say that will make him understand that he can’t save me from this. Anything I say will just make him fight harder._

Cold bitterness gripped his chest. There was only one thing he could think to write that would shatter Isaac so badly he’d never go after Gavin – something that would make him hate Gavin until the end of time. He gripped the pen tighter and prayed his hand wouldn’t shake too badly.

_Isaac,_

_I’m sorry I’m telling you this way, but I just couldn’t say it to your face. I’m leaving. I need to be honest with myself: I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe._

_Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted. Hope you understand and there are no hard feelings._

_Take care,_

_Gavin_

Gavin let the pen fall from numb fingers. His chest ached as he forced down a broken sob. Schiester snatched up the letter and read it once, his eyes scanning it quickly before he smiled slightly and folded it. He glanced at Gavin before handing it to the guard – Liefeste.

“Put that somewhere conspicuous,” Schiester said flatly. Liefeste took the letter and jogged back towards the house with a grunt.

Gavin dissolved into messy tears. He pressed his face into his hands and wailed as his heart shattered in his chest. His lungs felt like they were being torn from his body.

The other guard climbed into the backseat with him and closed the door. The overhead light turned off, plunging Gavin into darkness. He sobbed as the guard pulled his hands behind his back and tied them again. Gavin barely felt the bite of thin plastic into his skin over the tearing feeling in his chest and the agony in his mind.

“I-Isaac, _no,_ Isaac, Isaac, Isaac…”

“What me to shut him up, sir?” the guard asked.

“No, let the child cry it out,” came Schiester’s cold reply.

_“Isaac,”_ Gavin moaned. Isaac’s smell was all around him, wafting off the shirt Gavin wore as he rocked back and forth, his voice rising nearly to a scream in his anguish. “He, he’ll think… _No!_ ”

“It was expertly written, I’ll admit,” Schiester said. “Clearly your penchant for cruelty hasn’t left you.”

“Isaac, Isaac, Isaac,” Gavin sobbed. “Isaac, Isaac, Isaac, I didn’t… Isaac, please, no…”

“Take comfort in the fact that you’re saving his life, if that means anything to you,” Schiester said in the dark.

Gavin’s head swam as he gasped for air. “Isaac,” he whispered brokenly. “Isaac…” Tears burned his cheeks.

He jumped as the car door opened and the overhead light came on. Liefeste stood in the door and looked past his partner at Gavin with disdain before he closed the door again, jogged to the other side, and got in beside Gavin. Gavin sobbed as Liefeste closed the door and extinguished the overhead light again. The car lurched onto the road, and the driver drove in darkness for a while before he finally switched on the headlights. The car reached Burmingham and turned south.

Gavin’s sobs faded away to whimpers, which faded away to silence. Anguish and dull dread gave way to numbness as Schiester and his men drove with Gavin through the dark towards Crayton, the moon lighting the hills around them.


	14. Forcibly Stripped

Gavin’s eyes were red and stinging when Schiester and his men pulled into Crayton’s main square. There was a thin line of pink along the horizon to the east, the only hint of the coming sun. Gavin swallowed hard. His throat felt dry and gritty.

_I’m never going to see the sun again._

Gavin shivered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the stab of agony that went through him as he caught a hint of Isaac’s smell again. His hands clenched into fists and he winced as the zip tie rubbed against his chafed skin.

He opened his eyes and stared blankly out the window. The square looked different, without all the snow. The light posts that lined it shone in the near-dark, and the scars on Gavin’s back flared to life as he saw the post he’d been tied to and caned, months and months ago. He chewed his lip and shifted in the seat. He knew, with a strangely detached blankness, that the caning was nothing compared to what Schiester was going to do to him.

_“Once you have suffered what_ I _deem appropriate for your crimes, you will be put to death.”_

Gavin’s throat bobbed and tears sprang to his eyes. _I begged them to kill me. I begged Vera to kill me._

The car pulled up to the town hall and turned down an alley next to it. Gavin couldn’t find it in him to be afraid as the driver pulled into a sally port behind the town hall and turned the car off. He felt desolate on the inside, frozen, empty. The sally port door began to slowly close behind them. A light flicked on overhead, casting the garage in a dim, sickly yellow.

The sally port closed, and the guards opened their doors. Schiester stepped out and straightened his coat – thick gray wool, stretching all the way down to his knees. Gavin thought it might be the one he’d been wearing when the family first arrived in the north. He couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter. He shivered in the cold, protected by nothing but Isaac’s t-shirt. The guards reached in and roughly dragged Gavin out of the car. He sucked in a breath. His toes curled away from the freezing cement floor.

Schiester looked down at Gavin’s bare feet, and his brow wrinkled. “Where are his shoes?” he said casually, his breath fogging lightly in the cold of the garage.

“Didn’t bring them,” one of the guards grunted. His hand tightened around Gavin’s upper arm, so hard Gavin could feel it bruise.

Schiester blinked once, and then slowly brought up his gaze to look at the guard. Gavin shivered at the coldness in Schiester’s eyes, the tightly coiled violence that he kept perfectly in check.

“You what?” Schiester said, his voice carefully even.

The guard hesitated. “We… didn’t bring them. Sir.” His hands tightened even more on Gavin’s arm, and Gavin couldn’t hold back a whimper.

Schiester drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out. It fogged around his mouth like he was breathing fire. “And what,” he said softly, “Do you think his people will do when they find him missing, with his shoes still there? A coat I can almost understand. But _shoes?_ They’ll know he couldn’t get far, and when they fail to find him…”

The guard blanched and in the cold yellow light of the garage, he looked like a wax statue – or a corpse. “Um,” he mumbled. “Sir… I apologize.”

Schiester pierced the guard with his gaze. The guard squirmed and stared at the floor. After a moment, Schiester blinked slowly and wet his lips. “Well,” he said softly, with a glance at Gavin. “At least this one’s suffering will be _brief,_ if they come for him.” He turned on his heel and headed for a door at the back of the garage. One of the guards tripped forward to open the door for him.

The guard holding Gavin jerked him forward and dragged him towards the door, as if he was expecting Gavin to resist. Gavin stumbled forward on legs that felt disconnected from his body. His hands and feet were numb from the cold. He shivered so violently his muscles ached.

Schiester disappeared into the doorway, and Gavin was pulled behind. He blinked as he was led down a short hallway with cement walls, cement floor, and no windows, lit by the same pale lights from the garage. He panted in short, whimpering exhales that clouded in the air. Icy dread trickled down the back of his neck as he was led deep into the building – then down some stairs to the floor below.

_This is what I did to Isaac,_ he thought with a crashing wave of despair. _I paraded him through my fucking warehouse and took him down to the basement and chained him up and beat him and hurt him and—_ He did his best to hold down a whimper as shame pulsed dully through him.

Schiester glanced back at the sound, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell. He turned back with a slight smile on his face and said nothing.

Gavin heaved a sob and ducked his head, trying to catch another hint of Isaac from his shirt. He clutched for a shred of comfort, a moment of relief from the throbbing terror that pressed against the inside of his skull. _He’ll think I hated him. He’ll think I lied. He’ll think I never loved him. I’m going to die and he’ll blame himself… I didn’t mean…_ Shame lashed him as he breathed in the faint scent of Isaac’s sweat and soap and skin.

He hated himself for his selfish need to keep that scrap of Isaac with him. He knew when Isaac woke up, that letter would break him. Gavin was going to break Isaac again with the rising sun, with that letter by lying to him, confirming Isaac’s worst fears – but he was desperate. He was desperate to feel something _good_. He could almost feel the shadow of Isaac’s arms around him as he breathed Isaac’s faint and fading smell from the shirt.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Gavin looked around with blank despair. His gaze went straight to a set of gallows built against the wall. A wooden platform stood about three feet in the air, with two nooses hanging from the ceiling above. There was a lever at the side of the platform that could be pulled to let the platform drop.

Gavin’s throat ached as he swallowed and choked on the memory of the rope around his neck – the burning in his chest – the bitter cold against his skin – the sound of Isaac screaming – the smell of Isaac’s blood after Schiester’s men cut him to prove Gavin was broken.

_Even then. He tried to protect me even then._

He realized then why Schiester’s people tried to hang him in the square, instead of just putting him on his knees and shooting him dead with one of the pistols they carried on their hips. As his gaze moved numbly over the gallows, he knew. Schiester had been killing people like this since long before then. Gavin’s vision blurred with tears.

_That’s how I’m going to die._ He shuddered as he stared at the nooses, imagining how it was going to feel when one of them tightened around his neck, the rope rough against his skin, cutting off his air while he kicked and strangled and died. He wondered what they would do to his body afterwards. Would they bury him? Did they have a graveyard of innocent people killed because of the choices they made to survive? Was Gavin going to be buried with them, a killer and a sadist and a torturer beside the people he would have tortured and killed?

Gavin looked around, his heart beating faster, pounding in his chest to the thrum of his own terror. Just like the hallway upstairs, the room was cement walls and a cement floor. The ceiling disappeared in the glare of lights that made his head ache behind his eyes. Just opposite the gallows was a mirror; Gavin wondered if it was one-way glass, placed there so people could be executed without ever seeing their accusers’ faces.

Along the walls were five barred cells. They were all empty. Gavin wondered how long they ever stayed full. When Gray found out Schiester was killing people, they said one of his victims was killed the same day he’d been found. But Gavin wasn’t like the kid Schiester killed – Caleb, that was his name. Gavin glanced at the gallows and shivered as the temperature in the already cold room seemed to drop.

There was no one else in the basement. Gavin wondered, dimly, if they turned on the heat for the guards when they had someone to watch.

He hissed in a breath as the guard’s hand tightened on his arm and dragged him to the center of the room. The guard threw Gavin roughly to his knees. Gavin grunted and pulled weakly at the zip tie around his wrists. He could see Schiester’s boots as he stopped walking and slowly turned to face Gavin.

Gavin sobbed weakly as a hand gripped his hair and dragged his head up so he was forced to look at Schiester, who looked down at Gavin with a hint of vicious satisfaction on his face. Gavin pressed his trembling lips together. Words burned in his throat, filled his mouth until he felt like he would be sick if he didn’t say them.

_Please. Please, don’t kill me._

A tear rolled down his cheek as he bit back the desperate plea.

Daniel Schiester tilted his head as he looked down at Gavin. Gavin squirmed under his gaze and couldn’t help but feel, not for the first time, that Schiester was looking for someone else in the lines of Gavin’s face, the set of his jaw, the frame of his shoulders. Gavin shivered and wet his lips. He could taste his own tears on his tongue.

“Y-you knew my father,” he said softly.

Schiester snorted. “Yes,” he said with a casual nod of his head. “I did.”

Gavin opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it. His knees ached against the cold floor. His stomach roiled as he wondered what his father must have done to Schiester to make him hate Gavin so goddamned much.

_I’ve done enough things for him to hate me for. I’ve done so many things._

Schiester tilted his head and glanced up at the guard holding Gavin on his knees. “Alvarado,” he said softly. “Show me his scars.”

Alvarado grunted, and there was a pinch at Gavin’s wrists as the zip tie was cut away. Gavin gasped as Alvarado dragged his shirt up over his head and yanked it off his arms.

_“NO!”_ Gavin screamed as he clawed at the shirt. He heard seams pop as Alvarado snatched it out of his grasp and kicked him onto the floor. Gavin cried out at the icy floor on his bare chest, and scrambled to his hands and knees before a boot on his back shoved him to the ground again. His breath froze in his chest.

“Interesting,” Schiester drawled above him. “It seems someone felt the need to redo Gray and Isaac’s handiwork. Did they make those cuts themselves?”

“I-it was my _bodyguard,_ ” Gavin heaved as he shivered on the floor. “My mom, my mom told him to, to hurt me so I’d… tell her how I…” Tears burned in his eyes and dripped onto the floor beneath him. His voice cracked and he heaved a sob. “Sh-she tortured me so I’d tell her how to… h-hurt Isaac.”

Schiester scoffed. “Fabricating a story like that will not spare your life, Gavin Stormbeck. I’m afraid you assume I feel enough affection for those people to be moved by the notion of you protecting them.”

Gavin sobbed weakly, and he pressed his forehead into the floor. The scars stung in the cold air. Pain pounded inside Gavin’s head, the sickness and agony of the moment when he’d broken and told his mother everything. Everything she needed to torture Isaac. Everything she could use to torment Gavin’s family, while he just stood there and _watched_.

The boot let up from his back, and he dragged in a breath. He lay prone on the floor, shivering, watching Schiester’s boots where they stood inches from his face. After a long moment, he dared to look up at Schiester with terrified eyes.

Schiester’s lip curled as he stared at Gavin. “Get him up,” he snapped. “And tie him. Fifty lashes, to begin his sentence. And this time, _I’ll_ administer them.”


	15. Public Execution/Torture

_“N-no,”_ Gavin rasped as the guards dragged him to his feet. “No, no, _no no no_ …” He yanked against their hands, nearly out of his mind with panic as they dragged him to one of the cells. They threw him to his knees in front of it and forced his arms out in front of him. Tears blurred his vision and he thrashed against them.

His heart pounded in his chest as he remembered the agony of the cane – the fiery sting of the blows, the dull, crushing ache of his bruised ribs for weeks after. Sweat prickled on his skin as he strained against the guards, whimpering as they held his wrists against the icy bars and securely zip tied them there.

“N-no,” he sobbed, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. “Schiester, no, _sh-shit,_ if you’re g-going to kill me please just kill me, _please_ …”

“There is no if, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said evenly. “Your death in not in question. As I’ve told you, you have already been sentenced. Your remaining time on this earth serves as penance for your crimes, since I cannot kill you twenty— Well. How many playthings have you killed?” He wrenched Gavin’s hand back with a vicious grip on his hair.

Gavin whimpered wordlessly through his teeth as Schiester craned his neck back. The plastic zip tie cut into his wrists. The three guards stood back, behind Schiester, watching impassively.

Schiester jerked Gavin’s head back further and Gavin cried out. _“How many?”_ Schiester growled.

“Please, _please, twenty-three!_ ” Gavin sobbed. “I’ve, I’ve k-killed twenty-three playthings, _please_ …” He felt every single one of those deaths, like knives in his heart.

Schiester released his head and stepped back. Gavin sobbed against the bars. “I’m assuming that means you’ve killed more than just _playthings,_ Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester spat. “God knows how many—”

“My name is _GAVIN URIAH!_ ” Gavin roared. The basement echoed with his broken voice until it faded away to stunned silence. Gavin could barely breathe as he quivered on his knees, waiting for the pain. Waiting for a bullet in his head.

Gavin shivered as he felt, more than heard, Schiester take a step closer. He flinched as Schiester placed his hand gently on the back of his neck. Gavin swallowed nervously as Schiester slid his hand across his throat and tilted his head back, pressing his thumb and forefinger in on each side of his windpipe – a warning, and a threat.

Schiester clicked his tongue and leaned over Gavin. “No, it’s not,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk and deadly quiet at Gavin’s ear. “Your name is Gavin Stormbeck. You were born a Stormbeck. You killed people as a Stormbeck.” Gavin’s stomach lurched with terror as Schiester’s hand closed, just slightly, around his throat. “And you’re going to die a Stormbeck. Right over there, on my gallows.”

“P-please,” Gavin whimpered. Tears ran the corners of his eyes and back into his hair. He shuddered at the cold on his bare skin.

In one smooth movement, Schiester released Gavin’s throat and stepped away. “What was it I called this back in January? Meager justice?” He laughed once, a cold, cruel sound. “I should have dragged you from that fucking _family_ kicking and screaming and put you to death that day in the sight of the entire north. People should _know_ how Gavin Stormbeck meets his end. Still. This is the cost of my work. It goes unnoticed, unthanked, and uncelebrated.”

Gavin glanced back behind him and sobbed desperately as he watched Schiester strip off his coat and hand it to one of the guards. Another guard passed a long rattan cane into Schiester’s hands. Schiester took his stance behind Gavin, adjusting his grip on the cane.

Gavin ground his forehead against the bars in front of him. His breaths were coming so fast his fingers were starting to go numb. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, please, please, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ …”

“Ah,” Schiester scoffed. “There it is. The Stormbeck son is _sorry._ ” He wound his arm back and brought it down on Gavin’s bare back with a _snap._

Gavin _screamed._ Fire shot across his back, piercing down into his very lungs. He slumped against the bars, gasping for breath, his head spinning with the pain. Before he could draw in a full inhale, the cane struck him again.

Gavin wailed against his arm and yanked against the zip ties on his wrists. He sobbed and clenched his hands into fists as he strained, desperate to break free. He rocked forward with the next blow. His scream rent the air of the basement.

Another strike. There was nothing to hold on to. At least if he could clutch at the bars he could hang on until it was over, but he couldn’t twist his hands enough to reach them. His hands remained clenched, and empty. Sam wasn’t there to take his hand and guide him through the pain, like before.

Another blow. Gavin scrambled against the floor, frantically trying to push away the pain. He froze with a scream when Schiester struck him again.

_Schiester hits harder than Isaac and Gray did._

Of course, he would. Even through the agony of the lashes in January, Gavin had known Isaac was pulling his punches. Gray struck harder than Isaac, determined, perhaps, to spare Gavin further punishment. Or maybe Gray really did hate him, then.

The thought shattered under another lash. Then another, and another, and another.

Gavin panted, and his throat burned with thirst, a weak pain compared to the fire on his back. “H-how…” he croaked. His voice twisted in a scream as Schiester struck him again.

_How many is that?_ Gavin’s mind was a cacophony of pain. His entire body went rigid as the cane came down on him again. Sweat poured down his back, dripping down his temples, stinging in his eyes. His mouth gaped open as he gasped for breath. He saw a flash of white as the cane came down again.

“Sch-Schiester, please, I— _ahh!_ ” he cried with the next blow.

_How many?_ His head spun.

Brilliant pain split his mind with the next blow. He shivered as his sweat and blood dripped down his back, wetting the waistband of his pants. His stomach churned with the sickly metallic smell of it.

He sobbed with abandon with the next lash. His voice was a twisted, broken thing to his own ears. It echoed off the walls and pierced into his brain. He screamed himself hoarse with the next.

Through the roaring in his ears, he could hear Schiester breathing hard behind him. Schiester grunted as he swung the cane again. Gavin felt his flesh split under the blow.

“Isaac, please,” Gavin breathed. His throat was too tight to make a sound. “Isaac, please, please, Isaac, please…”

For a moment, the blows stopped. Gavin sobbed with relief. It couldn’t be over, surely it wasn’t _over?_ He thought that was maybe twenty. Maybe. He turned his head to look behind him, shaking like a leaf.

Schiester stood with the cane at his side, staring at Gavin with bemusement. There was an ugly flush on his cheeks, and his eyes shone in the cold, sickly light overhead.

“What are you saying?” Schiester said as he arched an eyebrow.

_Why couldn’t Isaac have just killed me after we escaped?_ Gavin thought with despair. _I begged Vera to kill me. I_ begged _her._

Gavin wet his lips and heaved a sob. “N-nothing,” he croaked. His throat felt scraped raw with his screams. He could distantly hear his blood dripping on the floor. The smell was thick in his nose, chasing away the very memory of Isaac’s smell.

Schiester wound up and struck Gavin again. Gavin screamed against the bars of the cage.

“ _What_ are you _saying?_ ” Schiester ground out, punctuating the words with blows. Gavin gasped and sobbed against the pain.

“I w-was…” Gavin’s lips trembled, and he sagged against the bars, dizzy. “I… please, I was—”

The cane struck him with a _crack_ that reverberated around the room and was swallowed by Gavin’s scream. “N-no, _no,_ please, I-I—” He threw his head back and screamed with the next blow.

“These all count, by the way,” Schiester said softly. “I’m not an unfair man. Now. _What were you saying?_ ”

Gavin’s skin was slick with sweat. “I… w-was begging… Isaac.” He whined and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to conjure up Isaac’s face. The pain shoved all other thoughts away.

Schiester barked out a cruel-sounding laugh. “Begging his _plaything,_ ” he muttered. “Unbelievable.”

“H-he’s _not_ my plaything,” Gavin whispered. He braced for another crash of pain. It didn’t come. He heaved a sob.

“In my experience, playthings that are released never return to the world fully _human_ ,” Schiester sighed. “But take comfort however you like. You can pretend the man who fucks you loves you of his own accord.”

Shame flooded through Gavin. _He loves me,_ he thought. _Or… he did. He doesn’t love me anymore. I’ve broken that. I’ve ruined it._ A tear streaked down his face and he whimpered weakly.

_I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe._

_Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted._

That would break Isaac. Right now, a hundred and thirty miles away, Isaac was awake, burning with hate for Gavin. He knew it.

Gavin’s shame blasted apart with the agony of the next strike. His torn and broken skin seared with pain as Schiester brought the cane down hard again. Then again, harder. Harder.

Gavin writhed and twisted against his restraints. _“Please!”_ he shrieked. Blood smeared on his wrists, looking almost black in the cold yellowish light. Again, Schiester struck him, and again, and again.

Gavin’s chest heaved as he sobbed. “P-please, _please, no, please_ …”

A guard cleared his throat. Gavin had forgotten anyone else was here. “Sir, should I gag him, or—”

“No, let him beg,” Schiester replied. “We always let them beg, Ziegler.”

Another blow. Gavin’s head spun dizzily. His hands were numb. He wasn’t sure which way was up.

Another blow. Gavin slumped against the bars, his head lolling. His wrists strained against the zip ties. Gavin gasped and screamed and blinked sweat out of his eyes. His back was on fire. Every breath was agony. The world was ripped apart by another blow.

His body shuddered with the next strike. He flinched, blind with pain, his blood roaring in his ears. Schiester lashed him again, and his throat made a broken, animal whine. He couldn’t feel his lips. The room seemed to tilt around him.

He wondered, faintly, if they would keep beating him if he lost consciousness. If they would break his body with the cane, even if he wasn’t awake to feel it. Somehow, he doubted he could escape that way. His eyes rolled back and he prayed for oblivion.

He jerked with another strike. He shivered, hot, cold, shattered. His muscles quivered with strain as he struggled against the restraints. Sweat stung the broken skin of his back.

“Pl— _Ahh,_ pl-please…” he mumbled through numb lips.

“We’re almost finished, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said gently. “Card, please fetch his other restraints.”

“You mean… Yes, sir.”

Boots clicked on the cement floor. Gavin couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. His voice broke his scream with the next strike.

Gavin’s stomach heaved at the next spike of pain, and he gagged. The smell of his blood clouded his mind. He tasted bile.

As Schiester struck him again, a black spot appeared in the center of Gavin’s vision. He blinked, his eyes wide and unfocused, swimming with tears. His blood felt like fire in his veins. His heart hammered wildly in his chest.

“Fainting again are we, Stormbeck?” Schiester mocked. The sound seemed to reach Gavin from far away. “Ah, well. I’m not surprised to discover you cannot withstand what you dish out.”

_I don’t hurt people anymore,_ Gavin thought dizzily. His shoulders ached as they twisted. He hung to the side, the zip ties cutting into his wrists. His sweat-soaked hair stuck to his temples. His vision was blurred with tears, growing darker with every passing moment.

A slap rocked his head to the side, and he cried out weakly. He saw stars when he closed his eyes.

“That didn’t wake him up at—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m almost finished. I said fifty lashes. I didn’t require him to be awake.” Schiester seemed to be breathing hard. Gavin felt a flash of pain, heard a scream. Tears streamed down his face.

His throat felt torn, with his next broken scream. The lights above him were fading. _Is someone diming them on purpose?_ He jerked as the cane came down on him again. He couldn’t breathe through the pain.

At the edges of his consciousness, he felt an encroaching blackness. He’d felt it before, when Isaac beat him in the square all those months before. He clawed away from the pain, writhed when Schiester struck him again. He choked on a scream as fire flashed across his back, but fading, fading. As if he was sinking under the surface of a lake. His head spun, his mouth gaped open as he desperately gasped in another breath.

A red slash of pain cut across his vision again. Then Gavin’s eyes rolled back, and he felt nothing.


	16. On A Leash

Gavin drifted. Sensations reached him – cement leaching his body heat through his jeans, sweat drying in his hair, the thick, cloying smell of blood in his nostrils. He blinked sightless eyes, shuddering with pain that was rising in his body, seeming to come from _everywhere._ There wasn’t enough room in his body for the pain. It was pressing against the inside of his mind, pushing out thoughts of everything else.

There was a pinch at his wrists, and he crumpled to the floor. Agony lanced through his back. His body let out a mindless, twisted cry. Hands grasped his arms and dragged him upright.

“Sir? Preference on a cell?”

“Oh, I think this one will do just fine.”

Gavin swallowed with a throat that felt scraped raw. The room spun dizzily around him as he was dragged into the open door of the cell he’d just been tied to. He wet his dry lips and tried to lift his head to look at the people carrying him.

“Please…” he rasped. “ _Ahh,_ please…”

“Ah, awake at last, Stormbeck. You only missed the last five or so lashes.”

Gavin’s head swam as he looked around for the source of the cold, steady voice. His vision was blurred, shapes and shades of white and gray seeming to kaleidoscope around him. “Mmmy…” His mouth felt like it was full of putty. “My n-name is…”

“Yes, your name is. You’ve mentioned it. And yet your name continues to be and always will be Stormbeck.”

Gavin grunted as he was dropped onto what felt like a cot. He looked up and saw bars crossing above him, cutting through the dim glare of the lights. He shivered in the cold that was starting to creep into his bones on the heels of the fire chewing through his back. His eyes squeezed shut, then opened again, as he cast his gaze around the cell – gray cement floor, shining steel bars, and a tiny metal toilet in the corner against the wall that Gavin hadn’t noticed when he was first brought in. His throat worked in a swallow and he raised his gaze to Daniel Schiester as he stepped into the cell, having to duck under the doorframe as he came in.

Schiester’s gaze moved around the cell as the shadow of a smile crossed his face. “Hm,” he murmured. “I didn’t expect how good it would feel to see Gavin Stormbeck in a cage.”

Gavin blinked tears out of his eyes. _My name is Gavin Uriah._ He pressed his lips together and said nothing. His stomach pitched uneasily as Schiester took another step closer.

Schiester’s lips pulled into a wider smile as his gaze settled on Gavin. He tilted his head. “You truly have no idea who I am, do you?”

Gavin blanched. He pushed himself up on the bed and whimpered as pain shot across his back. He felt as if his flesh had been split down to the bone. His throat ached as he swallowed again – fuck, he was so _thirsty._

Schiester chuckled. “No, I suppose your father wouldn’t have mentioned me.”

Gavin searched Schiester’s face, desperate for a hint, a clue, a memory of who the man standing over him could be. He shivered as Schiester’s cold gaze pierced into him.

Schiester rolled his shoulders and drew in a deep breath. “You will be fed twice a day,” he said, his voice as flat and cold as his eyes. “You will be permitted to bathe every three days. No sense forcing my men to deal with your filth for as long as I have you.”

Gavin’s chest heaved as his breaths punched in and out of him. His back was in agony. “Every th-three… Schiester, how long will—”

“As long as it takes,” Schiester said lightly. “As long as it takes until I feel justice has been done. Whether it be a few weeks, a few months… a few years…”

Gavin whimpered softly and sank further down onto the cot. In Schiester’s eyes there was the same cold emptiness he’d seen in his mother’s as she promised, over and over, to kill him when she was satisfied he’d become a Stormbeck again. Gavin cast his eyes around the basement, finding the three guards standing placidly outside the cell with hardened gazes and steadfast expressions. In them, he saw absolute devotion to the man who stood over him now. He saw men who would follow any order, at any time. He wondered if it would be one of their hands pulling the lever on the gallows when Schiester finally decided to kill him – or if Schiester would be the one to do it himself.

Gavin looked back at Schiester, and he knew the answer.

Schiester’s lips quirked as he looked at Gavin. “You will be permitted,” he murmured, “To earn your blankets, and your sleep, and my mercy.”

Gavin shivered violently. Tears stung his eyes at the thought of huddling under a blanket, hiding away from Schiester’s eyes and bitter accusations. “H-how?” he croaked.

“By confessing your crimes to me,” Schiester said evenly. “I don’t worry about you running out of things to confess. I know you started young. I can’t imagine the depravity you’ve committed, even during your short time on this earth. Although… how old are you?”

Gavin’s mouth was dry. “T-twenty-five.”

Schiester snorted. “Good lord. If only someone had put you down, oh, ten years ago, how many lives could have been saved?”

Tears ran down Gavin’s cheeks. _Nineteen,_ he thought. _If someone killed me then, nineteen lives would’ve been saved._

_I begged Vera to kill me._

Schiester took a step closer to the doorway of the cell. It dimly occurred to Gavin that if it were Isaac trapped in his cell instead of him, Isaac would be fighting. He’d be tearing his way through these guards, breaking them, clawing for his life. Like someone brave.

Gavin had always been the coward. So much easier to be brave when the other person is tied down, bleeding, terrified.

Gavin had never been brave in his life.

“Card,” Schiester said as he held out his hand to one of the guards. The guard stepped forward and passed a coil of rope into Schiester’s hand – and something else that Gavin couldn’t believe he was seeing.

Schiester stepped towards Gavin again, a deadly hint of a smile on his face. “I endeavor to be a better man than the ones I protect the north from,” he said, excitement tightening in his voice. “Though in this particular case… I see this only as further retribution for the life you’ve led.”

Gavin’s stomach dropped as he realized what Schiester held in his hand.

A collar.

“No,” Gavin whispered, his eyes sliding shut. “No… no, _no_ …” He blinked his eyes open and pushed himself up on the cot. He cried out as his back pressed against the cold metal bars of the cell. “Schiester… _p-please_ …”

Schiester set the length of rope down on the end of the cot and took another step forward. “You deserve this,” he murmured. Faster than Gavin could fathom, Schiester’s hand shot out and fisted in his hair. Gavin sobbed weakly as Schiester dragged him onto his back and pinned him on the cot with a knee on his chest.

_“No,”_ Gavin heaved, writhing under Schiester’s weight as his back was shot through with pain. He gasped and shoved against Schiester, out of his mind with agony as his back pressed against the rough canvas of the cot. _“No!”_

“Ziegler, Card, get in here,” Schiester growled, and yanked Gavin’s head back with a hand in his hair.

Gavin’s voice broke as he screamed. “Please, _please!_ ” Hands encircled his wrists in an iron grip and forced them down to the bed. “Please, no, _no_ …”

Schiester leaned harder on Gavin’s chest, and Gavin went rigid with the bolt of pain that struck him. His mouth gaped open and he sobbed raggedly.

Schiester released Gavin’s hair to wind the collar around his neck. It was rough nylon, black, and it chafed against Gavin’s throat. He tossed his head, breathless, desperate, his face streaked with tears.

Schiester pulled the collar tight, just tight enough to constrict, and buckled it. His smile grew wider. Gavin turned his face away. The collar was closing around his throat, choking him, cutting off his air. His heart pounded against his ribs.

“You deserve this,” Schiester murmured again, his voice slithering through Gavin’s mind. The words froze Gavin’s breath in his chest. He stared past Schiester to the ceiling, his eyes sightless and streaming tears.

_I collared Tori._

_I deserve this._

He shuddered and lay still. His head swam with the smell of blood that was now smeared against the cot. His wrists were released. Schiester got to his feet. Gavin realized dimly how much his wrists burned from the zip ties, the blood smeared on his skin and starting to dry. He rocked forward in a sob and curled onto his side. The collar pressed against his throat with every shaking breath, every desperate moment. He swallowed and felt it move.

Schiester leaned forward again and hooked his fingers through the ring that hung on the front of the collar, pulling Gavin’s head up. Gavin coughed weakly and lifted his head.

“If you even try to remove this,” Schiester murmured, “I will break your fingers one by one.”

Gavin shook his head, tremblingly meeting Schiester’s gaze. He wet his cracked lips.

Schiester reached for the rope at the foot of Gavin’s cot and looped one end through the ring on his collar. “I have no doubt your playthings have suffered worse fates,” he said softly, tying a knot in the rope. Gavin didn’t dare argue. “So while you are in this cell and out of it, you will be tied like this. If you are compliant and accept your punishment, you will not be restrained further. If not…” Schiester jerked the rope once. Panic spiked in Gavin’s chest, and his hands flew up to his throat. “…I will find other, more creative ways to restrain you. Do you understand?”

Tears coursed down Gavin’s face. “I-I understand,” he rasped. He shivered and whimpered softly as the movement pulled at the cane marks on his back.

“Good.” Schiester straightened and tied the rope to one of the bars of the cell, leaving enough slack that Gavin could move to every corner. “Now. Would you like to earn a blanket? Or would you prefer to wait?”

Gavin couldn’t help it as his hands drifted up to tug at the collar. Schiester watched him with intensity that clutched at Gavin’s stomach. He forced his hands back down and wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered on his side. He nodded weakly.

Schiester tilted his head. “Alright. Confess to me—”

“My coming back was my fault. Not theirs.” Gavin bit down hard on his lip, trying to keep more tears from falling. “I… I sh-should have died,” he whispered. “It wasn’t their fault. Please don’t… h-hurt them for it.”

Schiester scoffed. “Your surviving their trip south and returning to the north isn’t a cri—”

“It is to me,” Gavin breathed. His hands curled into fists until his nails cut into his palms. “I wasn’t supposed to live. It is to me.”

Schiester watched him for a moment, and Gavin trembled under his gaze. Then Schiester lifted his chin and stepped back. “I’ll accept it. That earns you a blanket.” He stalked out of the cell.

Gavin didn’t follow Schiester with his gaze, just curled tighter into himself and heaved a shuddering sob. He flinched when something was dropped onto the foot of his bed. He lifted his head to look. A worn, rough-looking blanket made of brown wool lay folded at his feet. He jerked forward to grab it – and cried out as his back screamed in protest. For a moment he was lying in bed in the Crayton house, counting his heartbeats, breathing slow and shallow, praying the pain would pass after his caning from Isaac. He blinked, and he was back in the cell, his hand held out towards the blanket. Schiester stood over him with an expectant look on his face.

“Th-thank you,” Gavin mumbled.

Schiester laughed. “If you feel the need to thank me, I accept,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Although if you believe your life is a crime worth punishing, it will be added to your punishment.”

Gavin gingerly pulled the blanket over himself and curled under it without another word. He flinched again when something soft hit him in the face – Isaac’s shirt. He didn’t put it on, but instead clutched it tight, burying his face in the soft cotton, and finally allowed himself to fall apart. He didn’t want the smell of his blood to ruin the traces of Isaac he still caught with every sobbing breath.


	17. Chapter 17

Isaac breathed in deeply, feeling the slow rise of his chest before he felt anything else. Other things came to him – the softness of the sheets beneath him, the warmth of the blanket, the sunlight shining behind the thick curtains that hung in the window. He felt that sweet, familiar ache inside him, and smiled as he drifted in the memory of what he and Gavin had done the night before.

_“What do you need?”_

_“You.”_

Isaac’s lips pulled into a smile. Longing curled in his chest as he stirred beneath the sheets – maybe Gavin would want Isaac again this morning before Sunday breakfast, and Isaac could lay down between Gavin’s legs, stroke him to hardness and then take him into his mouth, taste Gavin on his tongue, hear Gavin’s heavy breaths in his ears and feel his body arch as Isaac brought him to his edge and over…

Isaac reached out across the sheets, searching for Gavin. Maybe Gavin wouldn’t want that just yet, but he’d want Isaac to hold him, want him to stroke his hair and kiss his scars and tell him how beautiful he was. Isaac pursed his lips as he reached further, his brow furrowing in foggy, sleepy confusion.

Paper crinkled under his hand as he pawed at Gavin’s pillow. He blearily blinked his eyes open, fumbling at the paper in the dim light. He reached over to the lamp on the nightstand and snapped it on, his eyes still slightly crossed and unfocused as he tried to tried to make sense of the words scrawled across the paper in black ink.

A cold finger of dread brushed down his spine. His stomach clenched. His heart jumped to his throat and seemed to choke him as it pounded there.

_Isaac,_

_I’m sorry I’m telling you this way, but I just couldn’t say it to your face. I’m leaving. I need to be honest with myself: I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe._

_Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted. Hope you understand and there are no hard feelings._

_Take care,_

_Gavin_

Every nerve in Isaac’s body seemed to light on fire. He read the letter again. Then again, his mind struggling to comprehend the words.

_I’m leaving._

_You can’t keep anyone safe._

_I got what I wanted._

Isaac’s chest heaved with panicked, hitching gasps. Gavin… _gone?_ After everything they’d shared – after everything they’d said last night? The memory of their sex suddenly seemed like a bitter lie. Isaac cast back in his mind, desperate for a moment, an instant, that would have told him Gavin was lying to him. His head spun dizzily, and tears blurred his vision. Humiliation curdled in his gut.

_You can’t keep anyone safe._

_I can’t keep anyone safe._

He was an absolute _idiot._ He was an _idiot_ for believing he could have this with Gavin – for believing he could have this with _anyone._ He was a fool for constructing this romance in his mind with someone who clearly didn’t want him – and probably never had. It made _sense,_ for Gavin to attach himself to Isaac. If he was worried the family would kill him, it made _sense_ to make himself Isaac’s. All the way back before the team made their way south to fight Colleen Stormbeck, Gavin was attaching himself to Isaac so that he would be safe from the family. He probably never had any plan to act on it at all.

He _told_ Isaac he never had a plan to act on it.

_“Okay, just know that I’m not trying to make anything happen, alright? I’m just telling you this in case I fucking die tomorrow.”_

_“I told you I wasn’t trying to start anything. I’m not trying to make anything happen. Okay? I know it won’t. I’m not trying to convince you.”_

Isaac swallowed a broken sob. _He never loved me at all. But once I told him I loved him, he didn’t have that excuse anymore. He let me do those things to him because he didn’t think he had a choice._

Isaac’s hands shook as he staggered out of bed, suddenly ashamed of his nakedness. He pulled clothes on over numb skin and heard a distant crackle as he crumpled the paper in his hand. His eyes were wide and unfocused as he stumbled out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

When he reached the kitchen he realized, faintly, that Gray was the only person there. They were seated at the counter, a cup of coffee held in their hands. They lowered the cup and smiled as they turned around to face Isaac. They froze at the look on Isaac’s face.

“Isaac,” they said quickly, urgently, setting the cup down at getting painfully to their feet. “What happened? Was it a nightmare?”

Isaac numbly shook his head and held out the crumpled note.

“What’s this?” Gray said, and took it from Isaac’s hand. They smoothed it out, their lips moving as they read the note, their expression slowly becoming increasingly horrified.

“Gavin’s gone,” Isaac said in a hollow voice. He licked his numb lips. “Gavin left.”

Gray didn’t breathe as they stared at the note. “I… I don’t understand.”

“He’s gone,” Isaac said, even as it felt like his lungs were being torn from his chest. “He had enough, and he’s gone.”

“No,” Gray said, shaking their head. Tears tumbled down their cheeks and dripped onto the note. “No. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would he—”

“It says so right there,” Isaac said flatly. His throat constricted as he swallowed. “He got what he wanted, and now he’s gone.”

_“No,”_ Gray snapped. They crumpled the now well-creased note in their hand and tossed it onto the counter. “This makes no sense, Isaac. This doesn’t… _why_ …”

“I w-wasn’t enough,” Isaac murmured. “He realized the liability that comes with being around me and decided to leave. I can’t blame him for that. He was honest with me. He gave me a reason. He didn’t have to do that.”

“N-no…” Gray swiped the tears from their cheeks and sniffed loudly. “No, I mean… I don’t…”

Isaac shrugged, and it felt like he was shattering. “He had to do what was best for him,” he whispered, his throat too tight to speak. He didn’t notice the tears coursing down his cheeks. His vision blurred as he let his gaze move numbly across the kitchen, into the living room. The room suddenly felt darker, flatter, emptier than it ever had before. “And I hope he finds someplace safe. God knows he deserves…” His gaze fell on the front door, where some of the family’s shoes were piled. “He… d-deserves…”

Isaac’s eyes suddenly focused. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. His heart thundered in his chest. He wet his lips and blinked tears out of his eyes. “Are… are those Gavin’s shoes?” he rasped.

Gray looked up, their shoulders shaking with silent sobs. They lowered the hand that was pressed over their mouth. “Wh-what?”

Isaac swallowed past the lump in his throat. His hand shook as he pointed at the front door. “Th-those… are Gavin’s shoes,” he said, his voice sliding into a low, deadly murmur. His heart rate quickened until it felt like a steady, never-ending thrum in his chest. “He… l-left without his shoes.”

Gray’s throat clicked loudly as they swallowed. “And… he didn’t have any other shoes?”

“No,” Isaac said, lurching towards the back door. His breaths were coming so fast it made his head spin. He counted the pairs of shoes at the back door. “Sam’s, Edrissa’s, Zachariah’s…” He dashed back to the living room and counted the shoes there. “Yours, mine, Vera’s, Tori’s… Gavin’s…” His hands curled into shaking fists. His fingers ached. “He didn’t take anyone else’s, either.” His head jerked up and he looked at Gray. “Where’s the phone?” he said, his voice barely a breath. “I’m calling Finn and Ellis. Where the _fuck_ is the phone?”

Gray reached into their pocket and shakingly held it out to Isaac. Isaac went to the menu and hit redial. His heart slammed into his throat as the phone rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

He choked on a gasp when the fourth ring was cut off.

_“Hello?”_ a sleepy-sounding Finn said.

“Finn,” Isaac rasped. His voice cracked, his throat not making a sound. His free hand spasmed at his side. He needed to be holding something, _anything._

He needed to be holding his gun.

“Finn,” Isaac said again, his voice a little stronger. “Is Gavin with you?”

_“Hmmm? What do you…? Why would Gavin be—”_

“Is Gavin with you?” Isaac snarled into the phone. “Right now. At your house. Is Gavin there?”

_“Wh-what? No, I don’t… babe, wake up. Do you know where Gavin is?”_

A muffled _“Why the fuck would I know where Gavin is? Tell Isaac to keep track of his own boyfriend. It’s seven in the fucking morning,”_ reached Isaac over the line.

_“Um,”_ Finn grumbled. _“I don’t… Hang on, let me put clothes on before I check the rest of the… Isaac, what’s going on?”_

“He’s not here,” Isaac said through his teeth.

_“And maybe he’s just… oh, fuck, those are Ellis’s… babe, where are my pants? Oh, here they…”_ There was rustling over the phone. _“Maybe he’s just out walking, you know? He probably likes the—”_

“He left a note,” Isaac said, and he couldn’t help how his voice twisted with a sob.

There was a pause over the line. _“…what kind of note?”_

Isaac couldn’t bring himself to go to the counter and unfold the note to read it again. If Gavin really did mean it, and somehow left in the middle of the night without shoes because he was sick of Isaac’s love and was willing to risk his life to get away from him… “Um… I d-don’t… he s-said he… wanted to, um… l-leave me,” he whimpered.

A sharp intake of breath. _“Oh, fuck,”_ Finn whispered.

“B-but his shoes are still here,” Isaac sobbed, crumbling. He sank to his knees on the wood floor and covered his face with his hand. “And I’m worried that… I’m worried that… something happened to, to, to h-him…”

_“Yeah, now I am, too. Shit. No, checked everywhere inside, he’s not here. Let me go check… Isaac, are you_ absolutely sure _—”_

“I’m looking at his fucking shoes right _fucking_ now,” Isaac said brokenly, anger coiling inside him and just as quickly extinguished by panic. “He didn’t take anyone else’s. He wasn’t in bed this morning and left this… this _fucking_ note…”

Gray reached out for the phone and took it from Isaac. They eyed him as they put it on speaker and set it on the counter. Isaac stumbled to his feet and staggered to the counter, leaning heavily on it.

Gray blinked tears away. “Finn, you’re with Gray, too, on speakerphone.”

_“Gray. Shit. What did—”_

Gray picked up the note from the counter and unfolded it. They cracked their neck and sniffed back their tears. Robotically, they read, “Isaac, I’m sorry I’m telling you this way, but I just couldn’t say it to your face. I’m leaving. I need to be honest with myself: I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe. Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted. Hope you understand and there are no hard feelings. Take care, Gavin.”

Isaac shuddered at hearing the words read out loud. Each one felt like a knife in his heart, a flame held to his soul. He whimpered softly and covered his face with his hands.

There was a long pause over the line. Then, slowly, carefully, Finn said, _“That… doesn’t sound like Gavin at_ all _.”_

Isaac sobbed. “But I—”

_“No,”_ Finn interrupted. _“That… seriously, not at_ all. _He’s… never said… or hinted… or implied…_ any _of that bullshit. Not… not ever, Isaac. I’m sorry, that… that letter fucking_ sucks _, but… seriously. That doesn’t sound like him. That sounds like… that sounds like him trying to sound like someone else.”_

“That sounds like him trying to sound like Gavin Stormbeck,” Gray said quietly.

Isaac’s eyes blazed. “Stop trying to make me fucking _feel better,_ ” he growled, glaring straight at Gray. “This isn’t… I need to find out where he _went,_ not—”

“Isaac,” Gray said softly, holding their hand out to him. “I’m saying… I agree with Finn. I’m saying… this sounds like… Gavin being _coerced._ ”

Isaac whimpered and wrapped his arms tight around his chest, wincing at the ache. “I… Gray, what are you—”

_“Think about it, Isaac,”_ Finn said. _“He left that note. He left without his shoes. That doesn’t… Isaac… that doesn’t sound like him leaving voluntarily.”_

Isaac trembled, looking desperately from Gray to the phone and back. “You… you mean…?”

“We mean,” Gray said softly, “That you need to consider that this note was _designed_ to break your heart and keep you from going after him.”

Isaac’s hand twitched toward his waistband. Frigid, placid rage slid into place inside him, fitting as if he was made for it. When he spoke, his voice was a calm, even murmur.

“Then who do you think took him?” his said softly.

_“Maybe it was—”_ Finn began.

“Gavin has a lot of enemies,” Gray said at the same time. Finn fell silent. “And as far as I know, none of those enemies knew he was _alive,_ let alone _here._ So. I’ll wake the others. Finn, please get Ellis and meet us at the house. We need to go over every possible angle, try to find where Gavin may have been discovered.

“And when we figure it out,” Isaac breathed. “Find him, save him, and kill every mother _fucker_ who put their hands on him.”


	18. Chapter 18

Isaac shivered as Finn stared at the note, their brow furrowed, their mouth twisted in a grimace as they leaned on the counter. Ellis stood just behind them, reading over their shoulder. They had circles under their eyes and looked exhausted, wrapped in the blanket they’d stolen from the couch.

Vera stood behind them both, her face like a storm cloud. She absentmindedly rubbed Tori’s shoulder as she clutched her tight. Tori’s eyes glittered with unfallen tears she as watched Isaac closely. Across the room on one of the couches, Zachariah, Sam, and Edrissa sat huddled in a pile of tangled limbs and clasped hands, worry stamped on each of their faces. Gray near Isaac, close enough to touch him but leaving him room to breathe.

As for Isaac, he stood back from everyone, watching them all through red-rimmed eyes, burning alive.

Finn set the note down on the counter and turned to fully face Isaac, crossing their arms over their chest. “Isaac… listen, I don’t think—”

“I know you don’t think he left on his own,” Isaac snapped. “But then what do you think _happened_ to him?”

“Has he given you any sign he was planning on leaving?” Vera croaked, squeezing Tori’s shoulder. “Has he… I don’t know, done _anything_ out of the ordinary?”

“Besides the obvious?” Ellis grumbled.

“Maybe not the _fucking time,_ Ellis,” Vera snarled at them. They pursed their lips and shifted their eyes down.

Isaac tore his hands through his hair. “I… no, I… I haven’t noticed… _anything,_ ” he said weakly. “Not a s-single… I mean…” He looked at Vera helplessly. “I don’t… th-think…?” He turned to look at Gray. “Gray… I kn-know Gavin has a, a lot of people up here to want to kill him, but…” He whined low in his throat. “Come on, Gray, we know someone who wants Gavin dead for _sure._ ”

Gray pressed their lips into a hard line as they looked at Isaac. When they spoke, their voice trembled. “Yes, we do.”

Isaac’s chest heaved and he struggled to force down the spike of panic inside him. “And… _fuck,_ Gray, if it’s him, and we call him…”

“Schiester will kill him,” Gray murmured.

Tears brimmed in Isaac’s eyes. “And if it’s… if it’s… _n-not,_ and we ask Schiester where Gavin is…”

“…then Schiester will start hunting him. He’ll know we lied. And he…” Gray’s gaze moved to settle on Zachariah. “And our lives will be forfeit.”

Zachariah withered under Gray’s gaze. Sam and Edrissa both clutched him tighter on either side. “D-does that mean…” Zachariah hunched his shoulders up around his ears. “Is this… m-my fault? Did he—”

“No,” Gray said firmly. “If Schiester knew about you, I have no doubt you would be dead right now.”

“I need to fucking _do_ something about this,” Isaac growled, turning to pace the living room. “I… Gray, I need to… Gray, I need to fucking _do something._ ”

Finn set the letter on the counter. “We can start searching near the house,” they murmured. “If… I mean, it’s possible someone was blackmailing him and—”

“I would have _known!_ ” Isaac cried, whirling to face them. “I would have… he would have _told_ me! He knows we could help him, whatever it was. He knows I… we would have done _anything!_ ” He whimpered and pressed his face into his hands. He was falling apart, he was breaking – he raised his head and shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.

On the couch, Edrissa whimpered and shrank back from Isaac’s rage.

“Isaac,” Gray said carefully. “Go search your room. Look for anything that could indicate someone was communicating with Gavin without us knowing. Finn, that’s a good idea. We’ll split up, search around the lake and around your cottage, too. I’ll go into Burmingham this morning, ask around, see if anyone’s seen anything. I’ve got a shift in Crayton tomorrow and I can…”

“What are you going to do, Gray?” Isaac rasped. “You can’t ask Schiester. You can’t ask for a fucking… _tour_ of his goddamned town hall. He told you he kept Caleb in the basement before he murdered him. He knows we know about that. That’s probably the _last_ place he’d keep Gavin, if he knows what we do—”

“I think Schiester is only too aware of the nature of our missions,” Gray said tightly. “I think if he believed for a _moment_ we were coming after Gavin…” They pinched the bridge of their nose. “He probably has people on the roads who will tell him the moment we even _look_ like we’re driving to Crayton. If we assume he’s the one who’s done this at all.”

“Who else could it be, Gray?” Isaac whimpered. “I know nothing’s for sure, but… who else…?”

“I don’t know,” Gray confessed, their voice fading.

“Let’s just… start by checking your room,” Vera said darkly. She kissed Tori’s hair and went to Isaac’s side “I’ll help.”

Isaac stood frozen, broken, not quite in his body enough to pilot it around. He trembled as Vera’s hand landed gently on his shoulder. He raised his gaze to her, his vision blurred with tears. He opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out.

“Come on, Isaac,” Vera murmured. “Let’s go. I’ll help you.” She steered him from the room. Tears ran from Isaac’s eyes and streamed down his cheeks.

∴

Vera folded her arms awkwardly across her chest as she stood in Isaac and Gavin’s room. It felt bizarre to be standing there, the room still smelling faintly of Gavin, the bed unmade, the blankets rumpled. The curtains were pulled back, letting light stream in, dust motes floating in the golden beams. There was a book on the nightstand, next to a cup of water. A shirt lay on the floor in a heap. Isaac stood stock-still, staring at it, his hands shaking at his sides.

Vera took a step closer to Isaac, then another. Gently, carefully, she placed her hand on his shoulder and winced when he jumped. She chewed her lip and stepped in front of him. His eyes remained fixed on the shirt on the floor behind her, swimming with tears, his face in a rictus of agony. He blinked, and the tears ran down his cheeks.

“Isaac,” Vera murmured.

Isaac shuddered and raised his gaze to hers. His throat bobbed as he swallowed loudly. Vera’s chest ached with the pain seeming to tear Isaac apart from the inside out.

Vera wet her lips. “I…”

“He t-took my shirt,” Isaac rasped, his gaze sliding back to the shirt on the floor. Vera turned to look at it. Isaac trembled at her side. “He… I don’t know if it was… on purpose, or… but he took my shirt.” He took an unsteady step forward. He crossed the room with another stride and snatched the shirt up, pressing the wrinkled gray cotton to his face, and erupted in a sob.

Vera went to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him as he shuddered and completely came apart. He sagged against her as he wailed against the shirt, dropping his head onto her shoulder, gasping with sobs, convulsing with each tortured whimper.

Vera’s eyes pricked with tears as he cradled the back of his head. She swayed slowly with him as she drew in a deep breath and let it out between her lips. She caught the faintest scent of Gavin from the shirt with her next breath in. Her stomach lurched as she squeezed Isaac tighter.

“Wh-what if he’s dead?” Isaac sobbed, his voice tight, breaking with each word. “Wh-what if, if Finn and the others go out and, and they f-find… they… they find…” Isaac sobbed wordlessly. “What if, if Schiester came and… and Gavin went out – _why would he leave?_ – and Schiester killed, k-killed him, and I… I didn’t… Why didn’t he wake me up? I… no matter what it was, I could have, have _helped,_ I could have _helped_ him, didn’t… didn’t he know? D-didn’t he know that we… we… I _love_ him, didn’t he know that? I… wh-what, Vera, wh-what if he’s, _d-dead,_ oh _no,_ Vera, no no no _no no no no_ …”

“Shhh,” Vera soothed, and blinked her own tears away. “Isaac…”

“If it’s Schiester, then he’s dead,” Isaac whimpered, clutching at the shirt. “If it’s Schiester… he’s killed him, Vera, I _know_ he has, he s-said he would when he… _no,_ I c-could have saved him, no, no, _please, no, please don’t let him be dead_ …”

_“Hey,”_ Vera snapped, and shook Isaac. He sagged forward in her arms, tears pouring down his face and onto her shoulder. She pushed him back and ducked to meet his gaze. “Isaac. _Stop._ Listen to me…”

“I should have protected him,” Isaac moaned. “I sh-should have, he, he _left_ while I w-was sleeping and I, he _left_ and, and I didn’t do _anything,_ I h-had _no idea,_ and I… _no,_ please, _Gavin_ …”

“That’s _enough,_ ” Vera said fiercely, and jerked his chin up in a firm grip. “Isaac… _stop._ This… _isn’t your fault._ ”

“It is,” he whispered miserably, holding the shirt tight to his chest. “He _knows_ I can p-protect him. But he wrote that… that _letter_ —”

“I think we all know that wasn’t really him,” Vera said through her teeth. “Whyever he wrote that letter, it was to stop you from coming after him. Isaac…” She lifted his chin higher. He blinked tear-filled eyes and met her gaze. “Take it from someone who’s had to _deal_ with you lovesick dumbasses for the past month…” She cleared her throat, gentled her tone. “…he loves you. Okay? He… l-loves you _so fucking much._ S-so much that…” She shivered, pushed down the wave of dread that broke over her. “So much that… he wrote that letter. To… to save you from… whatever he thought… was going to happen to him.” She released his chin and put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. Steadying herself.

Isaac’s eyes darted between Vera’s. He shuddered and his face crumpled with another sob. “A… a-a month,” he whimpered. “I… h-had a _month_ with him. I… I’ve never… Vera, we were… _safe._ And happy. The whole family. I had… I’ve never…” He convulsed forward and pressed his face against the shirt again. “I th-thought I’d have… longer. I thought… I…”

_Yeah. I thought you’d have longer, too._

Vera shook herself. _We just have to find him. We just… have to find out where he went, and go get him._ She swallowed hard and drew herself up taller. Her back twinged, and she winced.

Isaac’s tears ran into Gavin’s shirt, soaking the fabric. For a moment, Vera felt the urge to pull the shirt away from Isaac’s face – _if it takes us very long to find him… you don’t want to ruin the shirt with your tears._ She shook her head once to clear the thought.

_I didn’t even have Ryan’s shirt to hold onto when—_

_NO._

She drew in a slow breath as she rubbed Isaac’s arms with shaking hands. “Isaac,” she said gently. His unfocused gaze flicked up to hers, and down again. She pushed him back towards the bed and guided him to sit down. “If you sit here, do you mind if I look around? Try and find anything that… means something?”

Isaac nodded absentmindedly, staring at the wall.

Vera sniffed back her own tears and turned slowly in a circle, her gaze moving slowly over the room. It was mostly bare, just a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand on either side of the bed. She pressed her lips into a line and went to the dresser.

Her throat was tight as she pulled open the top drawer. Her skin crawled with the feeling of invasion, the feeling that _she_ was doing the invading. She pushed Gavin’s socks and underwear around the drawer. A short length of rope caught her eye. She left it alone and closed the drawer.

In the next drawer were shirts and pants, a few pairs of shorts. Vera checked under every single one, unsure what she was searching for. Another note, maybe. A cell phone. Something. There was nothing but clothes there. She pushed the drawer closed with shaking hands.

She knelt and pulled the last drawer open. She blinked as she looked down at Isaac’s things – his clothes, a knife, and little else. She blinked tears away. Her drawer in her room with Tori had a letter written by Tori, a small white rock in the shape of a heart Tori had found on the beach and given to her, a tiny sack of Edrissa’s potpourri that she’d made from mint leaves, lemon balm, and lavender, a tiny book of poems Gray had thought she might like on one of their trips into Crayton…

Her throat worked around a swallow as she stared down at the utilitarian objects, the _functionality_ of things in Isaac’s drawer. Her eyes welled with tears all over again. She swiped at them as she pushed the drawer closed and leaned forward to look behind the dresser. Finding nothing, she pushed herself to her feet, groaning as her knees complained. She turned and walked around the bed to Gavin’s side. She rolled her neck and pulled open the drawer on Gavin’s nightstand.

Inside was a small orange pill bottle with _rizatriptan_ scrawled in handwritten letters on the side. There was a small pile of books that Vera carefully took out and set on the bed. One by one, she opened each book and shook it out over the covers, her heart in her throat, waiting for a piece of paper to slip out – a note from Gavin, explaining what was really happening. A letter from someone else, blackmailing Gavin, demanding he hand himself over, or—

Or Isaac would die. Or the whole family would.

Vera set her jaw. She knew nothing else would have convinced Gavin to go. Someone, somehow, had threatened the family. For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, she lifted her chin against her tears and tried not to look at the titles of the books she was shaking out.

_Unreality: The Role of Neuroplasticity in Brainwashing and Deception_

_Parents Who Hurt: How to Recover from Narcissistic Parenting_

_The Body Remembers: A Study in the Manifestations of Early Trauma and Recovery_

_When Home is a Nightmare: Recovering from Childhood Abuse_

The books were empty. Vera’s vision was blurred as she put the books back. _Gray got him these._ Her throat tightened. She closed the drawer.

“Isaac, can you get up?” she said as she looked over at him where he sat on the other side of the bed. Numbly, mechanically, he got to his feet. She lifted the mattress and checked underneath. As the mattress shifted, something clattered to the ground on Isaac’s side.

She leapt to her feet and dashed to the other side of the bed, her eyes wide, her heart pounding in her chest. She pushed Isaac out of the way and crouched by the bed. Her gaze raked the floor and landed on a knife, the black metal glinting dully in the light from the window. She reached out and picked it up. She looked at Isaac, who glanced at the knife and looked back at the floor.

“This is yours?” Vera rasped. Her hand tightened on the handle.

Isaac nodded wordlessly. He shivered and shrugged.

Vera pressed her lips together and nodded once. She turned and put the knife back, between the mattress and the bedframe. She stood and pulled Isaac into her arms without a word. Slowly, his arms wound around her waist, and he squeezed her tight as he began to sob.


	19. Chapter 19

Gavin shuddered as time seemed to slide slowly past him. He thought maybe he’d been in his _cage_ for a few hours, shivering under the threadbare blanket, his tears soaking into Isaac’s shirt. He could feel his pulse beating against the collar pulled tight around his throat. Every breath stretched the cane marks on his back. He wondered, vaguely, if someone would be sent down to see to him if the marks got infected. Schiester had to have access to the best health care the north had to offer – but how many of those people could be trusted to know that _Gavin fucking Stormbeck_ was in Schiester’s basement?

_My name is Gavin Uriah._

Each second pounded through Gavin’s mind. Isaac _had_ to be up by now. Everyone had to be. It was Sunday; they’d all be up, ready to cook breakfast, ready to sit together at the table, talking, laughing. Gavin’s eyes stung with tears as he imagined it, pictured how Isaac would look with the bright smile on his face that Gavin loved so much, surrounded by the people he loved and who kept each other _safe_.

Not this morning, though. This morning, Isaac would be heartbroken, and his family would gather around him, trying to comfort him and tell him that the words Gavin wrote were lies, and they never should have believed him… They’d tell him they were all fools to have ever trusted Gavin, to have let him into their lives, and they’d spit his name like poison through their teeth: _Gavin Stormbeck._

It was worth it, if they didn’t come after him. It was worth dying being hated by the only family he’d ever had, if that family survived.

_My name is Gavin Uriah._

Gavin licked his lips, his throat burning with thirst. He hadn’t been given water, hadn’t been given _anything_ after Schiester tossed him the blanket and pulled the door shut with a _clang_ that made Gavin’s head ache. Schiester had left the basement the way he came, leaving his guard – Ziegler, that was his name – behind. The man now sat in a metal chair in the corner, as far from Gavin’s cage as he could get, his feet propped up on another chair. He hadn’t looked up from his book since Schiester went upstairs. Gavin stirred and pressed his face harder into the shirt, desperate to catch a hint of Isaac in the soft cotton.

_My name is Gavin Uriah._

He had to keep his name. Even if Schiester took everything else away, he _had_ to keep his name. The name he _chose._ The name he’d _earned,_ the name that belonged to Gray. Schiester could have everything else. Gavin’s sins, his shame, his guilt… he’d hand it over to Schiester eventually, he knew it. If Leo could drag Isaac’s secrets out of his mouth, he knew without a doubt that Schiester would pry loose his every crime. Schiester would have them, if he wanted them. He could have anything but Gavin’s name.

_My name is—_

Gavin jerked as the door up the stairs swung open. He whimpered and ducked beneath the blanket, shivering – but the cold crawled deep under his skin, into his heart. It pounded in his chest and he gasped for air.

“Meeting ended early,” Schiester’s voice came ringing from the stairwell. His boots clicked on each step as he came down. The noise drove into Gavin’s head, making him dizzy and weak with fear. Each breath made the cane marks on his back flare with pain.

_No,_ he thought desperately. _No, no, not again, not already…_

His throat moved with his swallow. The collar seemed to tighten around his neck. _I visited Isaac several times a day for five days…_ He blinked tears out of his eyes. _And I was going to kill him when I got bored. This is my fault. Mine._

“Approved a few bills, talked to the council about building another school on the other side of town for the older children…” Schiester said nonchalantly. “Most people who arrive here, you see, have small children if they have any at all. The older ones tend to get separated on the road. And now that we have some children old enough to need a high school…” Schiester’s laughter echoed across the basement. Gavin flinched. “Listen to me, going on about the minutiae of running a town. My apologies.” Schiester’s voice dropped. “How was he for you, Ziegler?”

“Fine, sir. Just laid there.”

A chuckle. “Well, if that’s how he wishes to spend his time…”

Gavin’s muscles coiled tighter and tighter as the footsteps reached the bottom of the staircase and slowly crossed the room to approach the cell. He pressed his hand to his mouth to muffle his sob.

The sound of footsteps ceased. There was the scrape of a key in a lock, and the door to the cell swung open. Gavin curled in on himself under the blanket and shuddered, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His chest felt like there was a band around it, tightening, tightening, squeezing the life out of him. His skin felt like there was an electric current going through it.

_Well, I would deserve that, too. I did that to Isaac, and I laughed when I told him to beg me to let it end._

Gavin couldn’t breathe at the sound of Schiester stepping into the cell. He cowered under the blanket, covering his head with his hands.

_Hiding under the blanket so the monsters wouldn’t find him, the dead men that looked back at him with empty eyes, reaching for him with their hands slick with blood, cutting him with their knives until he screamed for his parents…_

Gavin sobbed weakly and blinked away the memory of the nightmare, something old and bitter dragged up with every frantic beat of his heart.

“Look at me, Gavin Stormbeck,” came Schiester’s voice, pitched low and almost gentle.

Fear wound through Gavin’s body, holding him frozen, binding him like chains.

_My name is Gavin Uriah._

A huff of breath. “Look at me, boy. If I have to tear that blanket off of you—”

Gavin whimpered and pulled the blanket back away from his face. He raised terror-filled eyes to Schiester where he stood looming over Gavin, his hands clad in black leather gloves and folded in front of him, his gaze sharp and cutting as—

As the knife on his belt.

Tears slid down Gavin’s cheeks and his lips trembled. He pulled the blanket around him as he pushed himself upright. He couldn’t help the weak cry of pain as his back was shot through with fire. He cringed away from the smile that slid across Schiester’s face, and glanced past him at the guard who now stood placidly just outside the cell door.

“I won’t be visiting you every day,” Schiester said softly. “So don’t worry about that. No, I have a town to run, and a life outside of you. But today…” Schiester tilted his head and stared down at Gavin like he was looking at an insect pinned to a piece of paper. “Today, I feel the need to set it _firmly_ in your mind who you are, since you seem so prone to forgetting.”

Gavin’s jaw tightened as he stared up at Schiester. Dull rage pooled in his gut. _My name is Gavin fucking Uriah and you can go to hell if you think you’re taking that from me._

He was Gray’s son. Schiester couldn’t take that from him. No one could.

Schiester shrugged and took a step forward. Gavin’s stomach dropped and his breath froze in his chest. Schiester’s eyes seemed to pierce into him.

“I opened the scars on your back well enough. I doubt you’ll soon forget that. But you came to us…” Another step forward until Schiester stood by the side of Gavin’s bed. Gavin’s throat felt rubbed raw by the collar as he tipped back his head to stare up at Schiester. “…already marked, all those months ago.” Schiester reached out with one hand, and his gloved fingers trailed almost _gently_ across Gavin’s left cheek.

Gavin jerked back with a gasp, and cried out as his back flared with pain.

“Please forgive the gloves,” Schiester said with an easy smile. “I just didn’t want to have to _touch_ you with my bare hands. Please allow me this one hypocrisy – I don’t want your blood on my hands, although I’m content to take responsibility for your pain. I simply don’t care to wash it off later.”

Gavin’s stomach dropped, and he bit back a sob of terror. “Sch-Schiester, no—”

“Begging will do you no good,” Schiester said as the guard stepped into the cell behind him. “You need to know that. Scream if you need to, beg, plead, but understand: your death is certain. All this is just…” His lip curled, and Gavin shuddered under his gaze. “…borrowed time.” He glanced behind him and nodded at his guard. “Ziegler, put him on the floor please. Hold him down.”

The guard grunted and stepped forward without a word. Gavin scrambled back, nearly paralyzed with fear and pain, blind with tears. He screamed as Ziegler grabbed the rope tied to his collar and dragged him off the cot, sending him tumbling onto the cold stone floor.

Gavin jerked and went rigid at the cold cement on his bare skin, the sudden burn as his back pressed against the floor. He sobbed helplessly and clawed at Ziegler’s hands as the guard pinned him to the floor and straddled his hips.

“No, _no, no, please, no!_ ” Gavin screamed. _“No!”_ Ziegler grabbed his wrists and forced his hands away from the collar, pinning them down against the floor. _“NO!”_

At Gavin’s head, Schiester knelt and gripped Gavin’s hair tight in his fist. He drew his knife with his other hand and held it in Gavin’s face, twisting it so it caught the light. Gavin sobbed and tried to turn away.

“This was your instrument of choice, wasn’t it?” Schiester said softly, his gaze moving along the length of the knife. “I’ve seen Isaac Moore’s scars, both from your first time with him, and your second. He keeps them very well covered, you know. But there is one that travels up the back of his neck that the collar of his shirt doesn’t conceal, and a few at his wrists – does he keep them covered with you? Or do you admire your handiwork when you’re together?”

_“Fuck off!”_ Gavin roared, twisting against Ziegler’s hands. “It’s not, it’s not _like that,_ you _leave him out of this!_ ”

Schiester snorted. “Why? You clearly couldn’t. As you said, you weren’t even supposed to _return,_ remember? How long did you wait to twist yourself into his affections? How long until he let you fuck him?”

Tears streamed from Gavin’s eyes as he tried to turn his head. “N-no, no, _fuck off_ …”

Schiester laughed, and the sound was utterly mirthless. “There I go again, speculating. Forgive me. I just… can’t _fathom_ what would drive someone to let you have them again after they’d escaped you. But then again, in my experience playthings never return to the world fully _human_.”

Gavin’s gaze snapped to Schiester’s as rage punched through his chest. He heaved a sob through his teeth and spat in Schiester’s face.

Schiester jerked back. Gavin’s chest heaved with furious, shaking breaths.

“ _Don’t_ you fucking talk about Isaac,” Gavin snarled. “Don’t, I, I will fucking _kill you,_ you _don’t talk about Isaac,_ you mother _fucker_ —”

Schiester drew his sleeve across his face with a look of utter disdain. Gavin swallowed and stared daggers up at Schiester. He trembled as the cold leaked into his bones.

“How protective he is of his toy,” Schiester said flatly, with a glance to the guard. Without another word, he leaned forward, gripping Gavin’s hair again, and brought the knife to the scar across the bridge of Gavin’s nose.

_“NO!”_ Gavin sobbed, and the sob drew out into a wordless scream as Schiester sliced through Gavin’s scar. Gavin blinked as blood rushed into his eyes, hot and burning. Schiester moved, and Gavin’s scream rent the air of the basement as the knife cut a line through the scar on his cheek.

Schiester pulled the knife away, tilting his head to admire his handiwork. Gavin heaved a desperate gasp, twisting hard against the hand in his hair, mindless with panic. Schiester yanked his head to the side and pinned it down against the cold floor. Gavin went rigid when he felt the knife press, ever so gently, against the skin at the corner of his eye.

“If I take your eye, that’ll be your doing, Stormbeck,” Schiester murmured. “Hold still.”

Gavin convulsed as the knife cut through the scar stretching from the corner of his eye into his hairline. His eyes streamed with blood and tears as Schiester finally released him, choking on the air that seemed trapped in his throat.

All at once the weight across his hips and the grip on his wrists disappeared. He rolled onto his side, sobbing, and brought his hands to his face. When he pulled them away, his fingers were wet with blood.

Gavin raised his red-tinged gaze to Schiester as he strode out of the cell, his guard right behind him. Gavin’s stomach heaved with the cloying, inescapable smell of blood. His stomach lurched and he vomited onto the floor.

“Oh, Christ,” Schiester said, rolling his eyes. “If I have to cope with _that_ …” He shook his head and turned his back on Gavin. “I’ll fetch cleaning supplies from upstairs,” he grumbled. “And if the boy is sick each time he smells blood, then so be it. He’ll be sick, and I’ll just keep spilling his blood.”

The guard nodded and returned to sit in his chair. Gavin’s head swirled with the smell of blood and sweat and vomit seeming to cling to his skin. He crawled to the cot and dragged himself up onto it, weeping, shaking, blood dripping off his face and back. He curled up on his side and pulled the blanket up over himself. He held Isaac’s shirt away from his face, not wanting to ruin it with his blood.


	20. I Will Punish Your Friend for Your Failure

The room spun around Gavin. He blearily blinked his eyes open and squinted at the halos that ringed each light above him. The air in the room had a strange, almost-familiar quality to it; like he could feel it on his skin, as if he could almost _hear_ it around him. He had the strangest feeling like… he’d _been_ here before, felt it, tasted the strangeness in his pores. He groaned and shook his head. The room slid past him like it was behind glass.

Pain shot through his back, and he hissed out a breath. He looked behind him, half-expecting to see someone standing there, wielding a cane, a whip, a knife. There was no one there. The cell was empty. The bars seemed to press in on him, leaching the heat from his skin from several feet away. He shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around him.

The opened scars on his face still wept blood that ran down his cheeks like tears. He whimpered and raised his hand to his face, touching the bridge of his nose, his cheek, the corner of his eye. Blood clung to his fingers, congealing and sticky and smelling like terror and death. Gavin turned his face away and pushed himself up on the cot. He gasped at the sudden burn of pain in the crook of his elbow.

He whimpered and looked at his arm, shaking from the effort of holding himself upright. His lips trembled as he stared at the tiny prick of blood on the inside of his elbow, fresh and starkly red next to the darker, almost-dried smears of blood from his wrists and his back. He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. He could see Schiester, pinning him down by his throat and having the guard hold his arm in place—

Gavin swallowed hard and shuddered at the feeling of the rough collar as it rubbed along his throat. He reached up to tug at the collar and froze.

_“If you even try to remove this, I will break your fingers one by one.”_

His throat constricted with fear, even as his nails scrabbled along his throat, fumbling to dig his fingers under the collar and pull, just so he could _breathe._ Terror stabbed through his gut and he sobbed helplessly, eyes streaming tears, blurring the dark figure that stood in the corner, watching him with cold blue eyes and a cruel, mirthless smile.

“I-Isaac,” he whimpered, tugging harder at the collar, bruising his throat with his own fingers. “Isaac, _p-please_ …” Gavin rolled onto his side, writhing against the pain, his chest heaving with whimpering sobs. “Isaac—” He squeezed his eyes shut. Sweat broke out over his body, even as his teeth chattered from the cold. He reached out to steady himself. His hand closed on the cold steel bar of his cell. With his other, he clutched at Isaac’s shirt, desperate for comfort, desperate for relief. He pressed it to his face and breathed in deep.

“Gavin.”

The voice went through him like a lightning bolt. He went rigid, his muscles straining under his skin, and his heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear the ringing in his ears. Hope crushed in his chest, desperate terror and pain and fear sweeping through his body until there was almost no room left for him. Slowly, slowly, he lowered the shirt and looked up into the eyes of the man standing in the open door of the cell – the man Gavin thought he’d never see again.

_“Isaac,”_ he breathed, and reached out with one hand towards him.

Isaac lunged forward and fell to his knees by Gavin’s cot. Gavin’s heart nearly burst in his chest as Isaac reached out and cradled his face, his hands shaking but so warm. The touch seemed to come from miles away, it was too close, pressing under Gavin’s skin. Gavin shoved the thought away and stared at Isaac, nausea swimming in his stomach.

“I-Isaac,” Gavin whimpered as his fingers wound in Isaac’s shirt. “Isaac, y-you… you _came_ …”

Isaac pulled Gavin forward into a bruising kiss. Gavin whimpered against Isaac’s mouth as tears spilled down his cheeks, mixing with the blood there and staining the cot beneath him. Isaac’s breath came hot against Gavin’s lips, and Gavin could feel him shaking, too. Isaac pulled back and kissed the bridge of Gavin’s nose, his cheek, his eye. He pressed his forehead against Gavin’s.

“Of course I came for you,” Isaac murmured, his voice low, husky, tight with tears. It echoed oddly in the basement.

“B-but…” Gavin pulled back and searched Isaac’s face. “How did you find me?”

“Just made sense,” Isaac said, his gaze warm and soft. He gently stroked his fingers through Gavin’s hair. “It made sense for him to bring you here.”

Gavin pushed weakly into the touch. “But… the… the letter, you…” Gavin clutched Isaac’s shirt even tighter and it seemed to slip through his fingers. “But… h-he’ll kill you, Schiester will… w-will _kill you._ Isaac… I… I didn’t want you to come, I—”

“But I did,” Isaac said fiercely. “I knew it was a lie. You thought I wouldn’t come for you?” He thumbed away the blood and tears on Gavin’s cheeks. “I always will, Gavin. I _love_ you.”

Gavin sobbed and sagged forward against Isaac. “Please,” he whispered. “Please… Isaac… I want to go home.”

Isaac’s hands shot out and fumbled at the rope tied to the collar around Gavin’s neck. Gavin swallowed uneasily as the knot came loose, and the rope fell away. Isaac gently guided Gavin to stand and caught him when he stumbled, his head spinning. He swallowed hard. His throat was so dry. He wavered in the cold air of the basement, almost as if…

“Shh,” Isaac murmured, and pressed a kiss to Gavin’s hair. “Shh. I’ve got you. I’ll get you out – I promise.”

Gavin clutched at Isaac and shivered against his side. His bare skin prickled with goosebumps in the cold. _“Please,”_ he whispered. _“Please.”_

Isaac turned with Gavin towards the door of the cell – and Gavin jolted with terror as the door swung closed.

“No,” he breathed, and looked up at Isaac. Isaac was staring back at him with terror in his eyes. “No, _no,_ Isaac, no—”

The air froze in Gavin’s lungs at the sound of laughter behind him, and of gloved hands clapping slowly. “So close, Isaac Moore,” Schiester said in his smooth, even voice. “So close.”

“No,” Gavin whimpered, shrinking against Isaac’s side as he turned to look at Schiester, standing just outside the bars, looming more than an apparition than a man. “No… Schiester, no, _no,_ don’t—”

Schiester laughed as he looked at Isaac. Isaac tensed by Gavin’s side, reached for his waistband – but his gun wasn’t there. Gavin’s throat tightened as he glanced at Isaac, and looked back to Schiester. Schiester wasn’t looking anywhere but Isaac.

“I was willing to forgive your little transgression,” Schiester said softly, tilting his head as he looked Isaac up and down. “After all, you _did_ sneak a syndicate son back into my region without my allowance, putting every person in the north in danger – but I was willing to overlook that. I was willing to let your family live. You do, after all, represent a sort of triumph over the syndicates, having survived what you have.”

Isaac glared at Schiester, his jaw tightening, and said nothing.

“But _this?_ Isaac, I gave you a chance at _life_ again. I removed the syndicate threat, and you didn’t even have to feel guilty about it. I did this, for the safety of our people. If you like to think of it this way, I did this for _you._ ”

Isaac’s lip curled as he stared at Schiester, and pushed Gavin slightly behind him. “You won’t _touch_ him,” he growled, his hands tightening into fists.

Schiester laughed. “No, no, I will. His life is _mine,_ Isaac Moore, for the crimes he’s committed. But I’ll get to that in a bit. Right now, however…” Schiester rolled his neck, and Gavin could hear the crack from across the room. “…I handle _you._ ”

_“No,”_ Gavin sobbed, trying desperately to put himself between Schiester and Isaac. “Schiester, please, let him live, he didn’t… please, kill _me_ …”

“I will,” Schiester said with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been over this, Gavin Stormbeck.” He nodded at Isaac. “Take him.”

_“NO!”_ Gavin screamed, and was thrown to the ground as the guards descended on Isaac. Gavin sobbed desperately and scrambled to his hands and knees, only to be shoved back down to the floor – the floor gave under him, just a little. He felt the ghost of the blanket on his skin.

The guards dragged Isaac away, further into the basement. Isaac snarled as he fought, throwing his weight against the guards. They threw him to his knees and forced his arms behind his back. Gavin blinked away his tears, shook his head against the fog as he sobbed. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the guards bind Isaac’s wrists behind him. They kept Isaac on his knees, forcing him down with hands on his shoulders, fisted in his hair, locked on the collar of his shirt.

“I-Isaac, _no,_ ” Gavin sobbed. “Schiester, please _no,_ don’t k-kill him…”

Schiester looked up from Isaac and tilted his head. A ghastly smile spread across his face and he chuckled. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” he said, his voice almost gentle.

“ _Please,_ Schiester.” Gavin’s head spun. He struggled to focus on Isaac, to look at him, to see the revulsion in his face as he looked up at Schiester. “D-don’t… please, don’t, _no_ …”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Schiester said.

Gavin gasped out an agonized, hopeful sob. “Y-you…?”

“No,” Schiester said with a widening grin. “Today I’m just going to give dear Isaac a concussion.”

An unbearable chill gripped Gavin in his bones. His eyes went wide. His mouth fell open to beg, to plead with Schiester to let Isaac go, set him free and let Gavin pay for his sins alone, die for them, die screaming. No words came out. He felt nailed down where he lay on his cot, freezing, his skin on fire.

Schiester took a step towards Isaac, his shape seeming to tremble slightly in the glare of the lights. “You’ve already lived through losing your family once. Stands to reason that you can do it again.”

Gavin threw himself against the rope tied to his collar. The collar pulled tight around his throat, and he gagged. He tore at it with his fingers, fumbling for the buckle. His voice broke as he screamed in desperation.

Schiester reached out with one hand and gripped Isaac’s hair, tilting his head back, forcing Isaac to look at him. Isaac’s chest heaved with fury, his gaze flicking between Schiester and Gavin. Schiester craned Isaac’s head back further. “But I can kill Isaac, kill his mind, and leave his body walking around like a damned ghost.”

“N-no, _no!_ ” Gavin screamed, writhing on the cot, his eyes unfocused, twisting in the blanket.

Schiester shrugged. “His body would still be with you. I wonder, would that be enough for you? Would you still hold him, love him, kiss him after he didn’t know who you are? Even after I’ve reduced him to some simple, trembling mess, would you be able to resist taking him?”

Each sob tore from Gavin like a knife being dragged from a wound. _“NO!”_

“It would never be the same. You’d have his body, not his mind. How long would it take before you went crazy from that?” Schiester released Isaac’s hair, pulled his hand into a fist. The leather creaked against his knuckles.

_“Kill me!”_ Gavin roared, sweat beading in his forehead as he clawed at the collar. “Sch-Schiester, kill, _k-kill me, please!_ Not him, please, _no,_ please not him…” The air seemed trapped in his lungs.

Schiester pulled back his fist and smashed it against the side of Isaac’s head.

Gavin’s scream pierced into his own mind. Isaac crumpled with a cry, held upright by the guards on either side. His eyes were unfocused, dazed, as he slumped in their grip. Schiester wound up and punched Isaac again. His head snapped to the side. A spray of blood covered the floor.

The air boiled around Gavin and he scrabbled against the bars, trying to tear them from the floor, sweat soaking into the cot, into the blanket. His mind was a ragged slash of agony as he watched blood drip from Isaac’s mouth. Again, Schiester drove his fist against Isaac’s head. Isaac slumped, senseless, against the guards’ hands.

Gavin sobbed as he watched, his throat feeling almost torn as each scream shattered him. Again, Schiester hit Isaac. Again. Again. Gavin couldn’t draw breath. Every beat of his heart poured poison into his veins.

Finally, Schiester straightened and shook out his hand, sending droplets of blood flying. He chuckled and nodded to the cell. “We’re done, for now,” he said coolly.

Gavin’s body felt like it was tearing itself to pieces as the guards dragged Isaac into the cell. He hung limp, bloodied, barely breathing. They dropped him to the floor and stepped out, closing the cell door with a clang that stunned Gavin.

“Isaac,” Gavin sobbed as he leaned forward, reaching out to touch Isaac. His hands shook as he cradled Isaac’s head. Isaac’s blood stained his hands. The crook of Gavin’s elbow burned as he held Isaac to his chest, shivered as his blood dried on his skin.

Isaac stirred and groaned softly. He blinked his eyes open, turned his gaze to stare up at Gavin with blank, sightless eyes. Gavin tipped his head back and screamed.


	21. Chapter 21

Vera stared impassively out the window at Isaac as he paced the back yard. Her jaw ached from clenching it. Her shoulders hovered around her ears, the muscles locked, her hands worrying at each other as she looked out at him. Even from inside, she could see the tears shining on his cheeks, the redness of his eyes. As she watched he heaved a sob and dropped to a crouch, burying his head in his hands.

The front door opened, and she turned to see Gray walk in with their shoulders stooped. Their eyes were red, too. Vera swallowed hard and wet her lips.

“Anything?” she murmured.

Gray passed a hand over their face and drew in a deep breath. “No,” they croaked. “Nothing. Though I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to find someone who doesn’t exist, someone who’s _dead,_ when they go missing up here.”

“Yeah,” Vera whispered. She glanced back at Isaac, who was on his feet again, pacing, wrapping his arms around his chest like he was freezing in the afternoon sun.

“How’s…?” Gray went to Vera’s side and looked out, their face darkening as they looked. “So about the same.”

“He’s in rough shape, Gray,” Vera said. “We… w-we all are, but…”

“Yeah.” Gray cleared their throat and blinked away tears. “How about the others?”

“Finn and Ellis are still hunkered down in their house,” Vera said, shaking herself. “They haven’t seen or heard anything suspicious. Tori’s on the phone in our room on the phone with Mathias. Zachariah, Sam, and Edrissa are all in Sam’s room. I told Zachariah to stay inside until…” Vera looked down at her hands. “I mean… Jesus Christ, if he has to stay inside until we… I mean… we don’t even know if—”

“Gavin’s alive,” Gray said through their teeth. Their eyes flashed as they looked at Vera. “Gavin… he’s alive. He… _h-has_ to be alive.” Gray’s voice faltered, and their eyes filled with tears.

Vera watched them for a long moment, then pulled them into a squeezing hug. She could feel Gray trembling against her as they wound their arms around her.

“We know who did this,” Vera said after a long moment.

“I th-think we do,” Gray whimpered. They cleared their throat and released Vera, placing a shaking hand on her shoulder. “But that doesn’t narrow down… _anything_. Schiester has the entire north at his disposal. Gavin could be… could be _anywhere._ ”

“Yeah,” Vera rasped. She shoved down the ache in her stomach, the trickle of fear down her spine. Her family needed her. Gray needed her. Isaac needed her. “We just have to…”

“Any sign that we’re searching for him, any at all, and Schiester will kill him,” Gray breathed. “We can’t… how on _earth_ do we ask the people of the north if they’ve seen him? ‘Oh, yes, I’m looking for my son. He’s 5’11”, green eyes, dark brown hair, scars on his face, looks a lot like Joseph Stormbeck…’” Gray scoffed. “Anyone we ask…”

“…can immediately bring it back to DFS,” Vera said weakly. “I know.”

Gray looked out the window for a long moment. Vera’s tears blurred her vision as she watched Isaac, standing still now, looking out across the lake. “What are we going to do about him?” Vera rasped.

Gray blew out a slow breath. “I don’t know,” they murmured. “But… he can’t wait much longer like this. Vera… he… if he goes south looking for Gavin, and he confronts Schiester…”

“Schiester is fucking terrified of him,” Vera said, only half-aware of what she was saying. “There’s a reason… look, I’m… pretty much fully convinced DFS _made_ Gavin write that letter, just so Isaac wouldn’t—”

“He’s seen what Isaac does, when his family is threatened,” Gray croaked. “Or at least… he’s heard of it. He knows Isaac went to Gavin in Sam’s place a year ago. He knows what Isaac did to escape. He knows you all escaped from Colleen’s captivity, he knows you laid the entire place to waste. He knows that’s what’s waiting for him, too, if Isaac ever finds out.”

“I’m going to pull Schiester’s lungs out of his fucking throat,” Vera growled. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. “If— When we find Gavin, and he’s safe…” She licked her lips and bared her teeth in a silent snarl. “I’m going to… to…” She heaved a weak sob and wound her arms around Gray’s waist. Gray laid their cheek on the top of her head, and she felt tears dripping onto her hair.

“He’s…” Gray whimpered. “H-he’s my _son._ ”

“I know,” Vera whispered. “I… I know.” She glanced out the window. The backyard was empty. “Hm.” She stepped forward, peering out the back window, her gaze scanning along the lake for Isaac. He was nowhere to be found.

“Did he wander off?” Gray said weakly.

“Think so,” Vera murmured. She froze at the sound of a car starting. She whipped around and saw the keys were missing from the hook by the door.

Gray turned at the exact same time. “I l-left the keys under the seat,” they breathed. “Shit, _no_ —”

Vera lunged towards the door, Gray stumbling right after her. She dashed across the living room and threw open the front door. In front of the house, the car was running, Isaac fumbling at the gearshift to put it in reverse. His head snapped up, and his hands jerked as he saw them, frantically scrabbling on the wheel. He jammed the car into reverse and turned his head to back down the driveway.

Vera bolted past him and skidded to a stop behind the car, her hands held out in front of her. The car’s tires crunched on the gravel as Isaac slammed on the brakes. Gray moved with speed Vera had never seen and darted to the side of the car. They yanked the door open and reached inside to grab at Isaac.

“Put the car in park,” they snapped, their eyes wide and blazing, their chest heaving. “ _Now,_ Isaac.”

Vera stalked to the side of the car. Tears streamed down Isaac’s face, and he looked desperately from Vera to Gray and back. His lips trembled. “B-but—”

“Put the _fucking car in park, Isaac,_ ” Vera hissed. Her heart pounded so fast in her chest she felt dizzy.

Isaac rocked forward and buried his face in his hands. He heaved a sob, reached over, and put the car in park.

Vera leaned in and dragged Isaac halfway out of the car. He whimpered softly and grabbed at her wrists as she dragged him upright and slammed him against the side of the car.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” she snarled in his face.

“V-Vera,” he sobbed. His face was swollen from crying all day, dark shadows cutting deep under his eyes. “I… Vera, I ha-have to do, do _something_ …”

“What, so you thought you’d steal the car and go to Schiester yourself, like you did for Sam?” Vera shoved him harder against the side of the car. “Offer yourself to _him,_ too? See how _that_ goes for you?”

Isaac sniffled. “I don’t _kn-know,_ I w-was—”

_“What?”_ Vera snarled. “ _What_ were you thinking?”

Isaac’s eyes fluttered closed, and tears slid down his cheeks. “V-Vera…”

“You thought you’d just come up with a plan as you drove down there?” Vera said through her teeth. “Wander through the front door of his fucking town hall, guns blazing, and just take those people out until they tell you where Gavin is? Is that it?”

Isaac slumped back against the car, silently shaking his head. He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky.

Vera jammed Isaac back against the car and stepped away, holding a hand over her mouth. “Jesus _fuck,_ Isaac, you can’t just… we… we need a _plan,_ ” she breathed. “This isn’t _like_ going to Gavin. Schiester’s fucking _organized,_ he has the entire goddamn _north_ at his disposal. We need to know exactly where Gavin is before we move. Isaac… Schiester holds _all_ the fucking cards right now. We need to be smart about this. We need to know what the fuck we’re _doing_ before we move like that.”

Isaac hung his head and wrapped his arms around his chest, cowering against the side of the car. “B-but… I…”

“You want DFS to kill Gavin?” Vera seethed. Isaac’s head snapped up and he fixed desperate eyes on Vera. “Because this is how you make that happen. Isaac… How much more fucking clear did he have to make it that he _didn’t_ want you coming after Gavin?”

“I j-just need to… _do_ something…” Isaac swallowed hard.

“You can’t do _this,_ ” Vera spat. She leaned in, pressing Isaac against the side of the car. She was barely aware of Gray’s presence at her side. “We can’t afford to look for Gavin _and_ babysit you. You want us to tie you to the fucking _bed?_ Is _that_ what you want?”

Isaac’s gaze went cold. His expression hardened, and he stared back at Vera with rage burning behind his eyes. “No,” he growled.

Vera stepped back and dragged her hands through her hair. “Then… for fuck’s _sake,_ Isaac, you need to think about this. Going after Gavin like this gets you nothing. It probably just gets you both killed.”

Isaac shrank back into himself with a whimper. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled over. “I-I… I’m sorry…”

Vera stepped forward and pulled Isaac into a fierce hug. He sobbed and wound his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her shoulder. After a moment, Gray wrapped them both in an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac whimpered. “I… I j-just… we…” He swallowed hard, and Vera felt his whole body shaking. “I… I _l-love_ him,” he breathed. “I can’t… I… we s-spent so much time being, being k-kept apart, and… C-Colleen made him hurt me, Vera, I just want to be with him and d-don’t want to h-hurt anymore…” He squeezed Vera tighter and shuddered, dissolving into bitter sobs that wracked his body.

“I know,” Vera croaked, and cleared her throat. Her own tears ran into his shirt. “But… Isaac… you _can’t_ —”

“I know,” he whimpered. “I… I kn-know. I just… can’t _think,_ right now. Schiester is… h-he’s hurting him, Vera, I… he’s _hurting him_ …”

Vera closed her eyes against the flash of memory from January, the snow falling in the square, the blood on the snow, the hate that seethed in Schiester’s voice, the loathing in his eyes as he stared down at Gavin.

_“Look at me, syndicate boy. If you betray us, lead any of your family to us, in any way jeopardize a single life during your time in my territory, I will break you in ways even your twisted mind can’t imagine. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”_

Vera shivered and held Isaac tighter, holding the back of his neck. “Y-yeah,” she rasped.

Isaac sobbed, trembling. “He’s… V-Vera, he… he doesn’t deserve that. He… n-no…”

“I know,” Vera whispered. She whimpered softly.

“We’ll find him,” Gray said, their own voice tight with tears. “We’ll… Isaac, we’ll find him.”

_“How?”_ Isaac moaned, falling against them both. “I… _how?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Vera admitted softly. “But we will. We’ll start finding people who would be sympathetic to us. I’m sure the north has more people with syndicate ties than Schiester would care to admit. We’re already talking to Mathias about being sent more refugees. He told Gray there’s an entire settlement of them that he’s been sending people to. There are people who will help us, Isaac. I _know_ there are.”

“N-not when they find out who we’re looking for,” Isaac whimpered.

“Hey.” Vera pulled back, held Isaac tightly by the shoulders. She ducked into his eyeline and nudged his chin up. He brought tear-filled eyes to hers. “We’ll figure this out, Isaac.”

“He sh-shouldn’t suffer because of… of what his parents made him,” Isaac murmured. His voice broke. “It… V-Vera, he’s, he’s _ours,_ he’s _good_ …”

“I know,” Vera said, blinking back her own tears. “We just have to find people who agree with us.”

“We’re not going to stop,” Gray rasped. “We’re going to keep looking until we find him.”

Isaac heaved a sob and collapsed in their embrace. The car idled beside them. The sun burned in the sky, and the breeze felt cool on Vera’s skin.


	22. Gaslighting

Gavin groaned and rolled onto his side, hissing through his teeth as the cane marks flared with pain. The air seemed to ache against his skin, his head swimming in the dim light of the basement. He shivered as the cold air chilled the sweat drying on his skin. The faint scent of blood made his stomach roil.

His eyes flew open and he sat up with a gasp. He cried out as pain tore through his back. The collar jerked him to a stop, the rope tying him down shortened until he could hardly sit up all the way. His heart pounded in his chest as his gaze swept the cell. Isaac was gone. There wasn’t even a smear of blood on the floor.

Cold gripped his heart as he raised his gaze to the man standing outside his cell with a smug, twisted grin on his face. Gavin licked his lips and trembled as he met Schiester’s eyes.

“Wh-where is Isaac?” he croaked, terrified to know the answer.

Schiester smiled wider. “Interesting.”

“Where…” Gavin whined softly, his hand curling into a fist around Isaac’s shirt. “What did you…” Gavin pulled the blanket tighter around himself, wincing as it pressed into the dried blood and broken skin of his back. His voice dropped to a whisper. “What did you do with him?”

Schiester tilted his head. “I did nothing with him.”

Gavin leaned forward, clutching his head in his hands. “P-please,” he whimpered. “Don’t… Please let me see him, he… h-he needs _help,_ please get him help…”

Schiester’s lips quirked. “And what,” he said amusedly, “Does he need help _with?_ ”

Gavin’s breaths started to come faster. “N-no, no… p-please, he’s not… please don’t kill him, you… you d-didn’t kill him…” He rocked forward and back, tears streaming from sightless eyes. “Isaac…”

Gavin froze as Schiester’s laughter filled the basement. “It worked better than I could have hoped.”

Gavin slowly raised his head to look at Schiester again. He scarcely dared to breathe. “I… wh-what worked… better?”

Schiester snorted and reached into his pocket with his ungloved hand. He pulled out a small vial and held it up to the light.

Dread pooled in Gavin’s stomach. “What… wh-what…?”

“I had a friend craft it for me,” Schiester said conversationally. “She went through several iterations, mixes of ketamine, lysergic acid diethylamide, rohypnol, sodium pentothal… I’m honestly not sure what she decided on. But I would say it decidedly works.”

Bile crawled up Gavin’s throat and burned the back of his tongue. “Wh-what… Schiester, what—”

“What, _exactly,_ did you see?” Schiester said, and Gavin felt dissected under his gaze.

Gavin swallowed. “What did I… see?”

“You mentioned Isaac,” Schiester said. His gaze burned on Gavin’s skin. “Did you see Isaac? What was happening to him?”

Gavin felt dizzy. His lips were numb. “Wh-what… Isaac was, was _here,_ you—”

“And what was I doing to him?” Schiester said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

All the blood drained of Gavin’s face. “Y-you’re insane,” he whispered.

Schiester stepped forward, and Gavin flinched back. The rope snapped tight again. The collar seemed to constrict around his throat.

“Tell me, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester breathed. “What did you see?”

Gavin wet his lips and tried to think, each thought flying through his mind, choking him, paralyzing him. He blinked tears away as he remembered, vividly – vaguely – Isaac being caught, beaten, thrown into the cell with him. Panic tightened in his throat as he heard Schiester’s voice, cool and deadly – and an echo of his own, almost exactly a year ago, as he leered down at Ellis and taunted them with Finn’s life.

_“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”_

_“They mean a lot to you, don’t they?”_

_“Today I’m just going to give dear Isaac a concussion.”_

_“Today I’m just gonna give dear Finn a little concussion.”_

_“But I can kill Isaac, kill his mind, and leave his body walking around like a damned ghost.”_

_“But I can kill Finn, kill their mind, and leave their body walking around like a damned ghost.”_

The room spun around Gavin as he raised his gaze to Schiester again. “Th-that… w-wasn’t real…?”

Schiester tucked the vial back into his pocket. “And the syndicate son figures it out.”

Desperate terror seized Gavin and he reached forward to clutch at the bars. “L-let me see your hands,” he managed through chattering teeth.

Schiester quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“J-just, let, _l-let me see your fucking hands!_ ” Gavin shouted. Sweat beaded on his skin. He thought he might be sick.

Schiester hesitated, then stepped forward, holding his bare hands out, palms to the ceiling. “Content, Stormbeck?”

“The backs,” Gavin rasped. “Let me s-see your knuckles.”

Schiester huffed out an amused laugh. He turned his hands over and held them out for Gavin to inspect. The skin across his knuckles was unbroken, unbruised.

Gavin whimpered and sank to the cot, his eyes wide. Unbearable relief flooded his body, tainted by acrid fear. He pressed a hand over his mouth. His heart thudded in his chest, blood rushing through his ears.

“Tell me what you saw, Stormbeck,” Schiester said quietly, just outside the bars. Gavin jumped and whimpered with the fire under his skin, shooting through his back.

“He w-wasn’t here,” Gavin whispered. Tears streamed down his face, smarting where they touched the opened scar on his cheek. “He… d-didn’t come.”

“No, why would he?” Schiester said with a chuckle.

“He didn’t… he w-won’t be… be hurt. Because of me.” Gavin sobbed weakly and curled into a ball, pressing Isaac’s shirt to his face. He sobbed harder as Isaac’s scent washed over him.

Schiester was silent for a long moment. Then, with a tone that bordered on pity, he said, “Ah. You hallucinated Moore coming to your rescue.”

“H-hallucination,” Gavin mumbled through numb lips. “It was… w-was a, a hallucination. He won’t be… hurt.” Gavin felt like the floor had been ripped away. Isaac wasn’t coming, had never come. He wouldn’t be rescued.

Isaac wouldn’t be hurt.

“And what,” Schiester said softly, “Did I do to him for trying?”

Gavin cowered against the cot, shrinking in on himself. “You…” He couldn’t tell Schiester. If he told Schiester the truth, if Schiester took that information back to his family, took Isaac’s mind away, turned Isaac into the walking corpse Gavin had once promised to make Finn…

Gavin tasted blood at the back of his throat as he swallowed. “Y-you tortured him,” he rasped.

_“How?”_ Schiester said through his teeth.

Gavin jerked his head from side to side. “Not…” His voice broke. “N-not…”

_Not telling._

Schiester would have to beat it out of him. He’d have to cut it out of him.

Schiester blew out a slow breath, his eyes sliding out of focus. He rolled his neck and raised his gaze to Gavin again. “Was it in a way you fear?”

Gavin blinked. His head rang with the sound of Schiester’s laughter as he beat Isaac nearly to death— _But that didn’t happen._ “Wh-what?”

“The way I tortured him.” Schiester pinned him with his steady gaze. “Was it in a way you fear, for him?”

“Y-yes,” Gavin whispered through trembling lips.

Schiester’s gaze was colder than the room around Gavin as he stared him down. “Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll accept that, for now.” He relaxed his shoulders, took a step back from the cell. He walked a slow line across the basement, turned, walked back. Gavin kept his eyes fixed on him. “Interesting,” Schiester murmured. “You… hallucinated _Moore_ rescuing you.”

Gavin slumped against the cot and pulled the blanket up over his head, hiding from Schiester’s glances. “F-fuck off,” he growled.

Schiester laughed once. “It’s _very_ interesting to me. He… must have fully convinced you he felt something for you, didn’t he?”

Cold crept under Gavin’s skin, down his throat, and chilled his heart. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut against the nausea, the last waves of dizziness that still clung to him from the drug he’d been given. He rubbed at the pinprick of burning pain along the inside of his elbow. His fingers moved over it and he realized, for the first time, that it was a needle mark, directly over his vein.

Schiester huffed out a laugh. “I mean, it makes sense. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same. When you’re saddled with a syndicate son, you do what you must.”

“I said _fuck off,_ ” Gavin whispered, hiding his head in his arms. His breath warmed the air under the blanket. He curled tighter into himself.

“I wonder at your… acumen, in this situation, then,” Schiester continued, as if Gavin hadn’t said anything. “He… truly, Stormbeck, did you _believe_ him? He would have said _anything_ to keep you in line.”

Schiester’s words prickled under Gavin’s skin. He pressed against his forehead. His hands came away sticky with dried blood.

“I admire Moore’s tenacity to protect his family even more now. I imagine it was hell to— but then again, he’s made far greater sacrifices for his family than being your bed toy, no?”

Gavin groaned and uncurled slightly to relieve the tug and burn of the cane marks. “No, th-that’s not… it wasn’t… _like_ that…”

“But with you heir to the throne, so to speak… no wonder. It makes sense. Let you believe he feels something for you, and you’re less likely to betray him. Do you not see the power dynamic there, boy? If he refuses your advances, he risks you turning on him, sending him and his entire family back south in chains. What choice did he have, other than to let you have him? What other choice is there, when the alternative is death?”

“N-no,” Gavin whimpered. “He… h-he _knows_ I’d never…” He gagged weakly at the smell of blood, tipped his head back until his face was out from underneath the blanket. He breathed in deep the cold air of the basement. The smell of blood wasn’t as strong.

“ _How_ would he know that, Gavin Stormbeck?” Schiester purred. “All he’s ever known at your hands is torture. Pain. Obligation. Risk. This is what you bring to his doorstep, and this is why he chose to make the sacrifice of being with you. And played his part splendidly, if you saw him rescuing you, and watched him be tortured for it.”

_“No,”_ Gavin moaned, clawing at his collar.

“If anything, this has increased my respect for Moore tenfold,” Schiester said, chuckling. “He’s already proven he’ll sacrifice his body and soul for his family but… _damn._ ”

_“S-stop,”_ Gavin whimpered.

“Makes me wonder how different you are from your father, though. Do you like Isaac Moore to like it? Or do you prefer him screaming under you?”

_“NO!”_ Gavin screamed as he shot upright. Tears burned his eyes and he sobbed raggedly. “N-no, _no,_ don’t, don’t say that, _stop_ —”

Schiester paused. His lips slid slowly into a smile. “Stormbeck… don’t pretend to be _shocked._ ”

Gavin rocked forward, clutched at his hair, yanked it out by its roots. “N-no, you… I _didn’t_ —”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you can’t understand that, the way you were raised. Still, there goes the last of my hope that time with that family could make a human out of you.” Schiester stepped forward, eyes like a snake about to strike, perfectly focused. “But even after you all made it north, even after both your parents were dead and you couldn’t even claim their influence over you anymore…” Schiester wet his lips, and his eyes shone even in the dim light. “…you raped him, didn’t you? You raped Isaac Moore.”

_“No,”_ Gavin sobbed. The sound drew out into a terrible broken wail. “No, _no, no,_ he… he l-loved me, I didn’t—”

Schiester scoffed. “Pathetic. Oh, I believe he told you that, of course, I’m not saying you’re lying. Not about _that,_ anyway. But… Stormbeck, I know he was lying to you, because… well, just think about it. How could a man like _that…_ ” He took one more step forward and leaned close to the bars. “…love a man like _you?_ ”

Gavin shattered. He collapsed onto the cot, his mouth pulled open in a scream of agony. He’d known, deep down, that Isaac couldn’t truly love him – and he’d slept with Isaac anyway, even _knowing._ Knowing it didn’t make sense.

He’d raped Isaac. Even without the chains, the restraints, the guard watching in the corner – he’d raped Isaac. And Isaac had withstood it, to save his family.

He sobbed wretchedly against the cot, dug his fingers into the cuts on his face, gritted his teeth against the flash of pain. His sobs drowned out the sound of the quiet voice in the back of his mind—

_Schiester said he’d make me suffer. This is torture. Isaac would have been the one to save me from my mother if he wasn’t hurt. He risked his life to smuggle me north. He came to me after we were safe, told me he loved me. He defended me from Ellis. He held me after my nightmares. He told Finn he wanted to spend his life with me… and didn’t even know I could hear him say it._

None of that mattered. None of it meant anything.

Over his sobs, he could still hear the sound of Daniel Schiester laughing.


	23. Chapter 23

Gavin knew _something_ had happened. He blinked blearily in the dim light of the cell, sore in his bones, his head swirling with a feeling that was almost familiar. He wet cracked lips and glanced out into the basement. His heart leapt as his gaze landed on a bottle of water on the floor outside the cell, just within reach. He groaned as he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself upright.

He froze as he saw Schiester standing back, watching him. A guard watched impassively from the corner.

Panic spiked through Gavin’s body – panic, and shame. There was something in the back of his mind, something evil and bitter that moved through his blood. Flashes of Isaac came to him – Isaac, smiling in bed with him, Isaac crying out against Gavin’s skin as they made love…

Isaac, in this basement, being beaten half to death by the man standing outside the bars.

An echo of Schiester’s voice came to him as if from a dream, as if from a memory from years ago.

_“You raped him, didn’t you?”_

His blood froze to ice in his veins. He wet his lips and tried to push himself to standing, the rope tied to his collar now long enough that he could.

_Was it shorter before?_

The floor seemed to buck beneath him, and he crumpled, a scream held behind his teeth as pain ripped through his back. The floor felt like ice against his bare chest and he reached up, fumbling for Isaac’s shirt where it lay in a heap on the cot. He pulled it on with shaking hands and whimpered as Isaac’s scent washed over him. He hoped that the blood on his back was dried enough that it wouldn’t ruin the shirt, but he was too cold to stand being without it any longer. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and began to crawl towards the bars, towards the water.

“He lives,” Schiester said with a sneer.

Gavin hung his head. “F-fuck off,” he groaned. He reached the bars and collapsed in front of them, his chest heaving, his stomach roiling with the dizziness that seemed to push him out of his own head. He stretched out one hand towards the bottle of water, his fingers dragging across the cold cement. Just as he reached the bottle, Schiester took two steps forward and pinned Gavin’s hand under his boot.

Gavin grunted and tried to jerk his hand away. He squirmed and whimpered softly as Schiester leaned more weight, grinding the knuckles beneath his boot.

Gavin hissed a breath in through his teeth. “Ahh, fuck, _get off,_ ” he growled.

Schiester laughed. “Where are your manners, Stormbeck?”

_“Truly, Stormbeck, did you_ believe _him? He would have said_ anything _to keep you in line.”_

Gavin shuddered and blinked away the tears that suddenly sprang to his eyes. His mouth felt bone dry. “Wh-what did you do to me?” he croaked.

Keeping his foot still crushing down onto Gavin’s hand, Schiester dropped into a crouch, staring at Gavin through the bars. “Interesting. Anterograde amnesia. She said that could be a side effect.”

“Side effect of, of _what?_ ” Gavin snapped, and tried again to yank his hand out from under Schiester’s boot. He glared up at Schiester and trembled at the cold, piercing look he was giving him.

Schiester tilted his head. “Hm. What _do_ you remember?”

Gavin blinked. The time was… _missing._

Missing like so much of his time in the hospital after Isaac escaped him. Missing like the helicopter ride from his summer home to the hospital after Vera shot him. Missing like… so many moments, after Isaac beat him so badly he nearly died from it. He swallowed hard and winced as it felt like shards of glass moving down his throat.

He saw flashes, but he couldn’t even be sure they were real. Struggling under the guard’s hands as Schiester held a needle to his arm. Screaming as he watched Schiester beat Isaac and dump him in Gavin’s cell. Schiester taunting him with Isaac’s love, Isaac’s pain…

_“You raped him, didn’t you? You raped Isaac Moore.”_

Gavin shivered and went rigid as terror and rage both swept through him. He raised his gaze to Schiester, his lip curling.

“What the fuck did you _do?_ ” he spat through his teeth.

Schiester chuckled and shook his head. “Alright. Not ideal, but… I can work with that.” He lifted his boot. Gavin groaned as he pulled back his hand, cradling it against his chest as he lay slumped on the floor. Schiester raised an eyebrow and nodded at the water. “Didn’t you want that?”

Gavin glared up at Schiester, then glanced at the water. He felt like he’d swallowed a knife. A headache began to pound faintly behind his left eye. “You’re gonna let me have it?” he ground out.

Schiester took a step back and raised his hands. “Wouldn’t want you dying of thirst. It’s an agonizing process, but… far too _short_. A few days, at the longest.”

Gavin chewed his lip, his gaze fixed on Schiester. His eyes flicked to the water again once, twice, then his hand shot out to grab the bottle. He twisted off the cap and held it to his lips with a shaking hand. His eyes slid shut as the water rushed over his tongue and down his throat, quenching his blazing thirst for a moment. When he paused to take a breath, Schiester was still watching him with feverish intensity. Gavin clenched his jaw and shuffled back on his knees until he reached the cot and crawled back onto it, shivering from the cold. He pulled the blanket up over him again and wrapped it around himself as he sat up and stared right back at Schiester.

He pushed down the panic rising in him, the feeling that everything, including this, might be a dream, a hallucination, a trick. If Schiester could do something to him to make him miss time…

Still, there was something… _different,_ about that one part of it, about Schiester smiling mirthlessly, the expression not touching the coldness of his eyes, his mouth curling into a sneer as Gavin sobbed and begged.

_“You raped him, didn’t you? You raped Isaac Moore.”_

Gavin didn’t know if it was real, but he had to say it, anyway: “I d-didn’t rape Isaac.”

Schiester blinked, as if surprised. “Excuse me?”

Gavin hesitated. Fear clutched at him, terror that if Schiester believed he was denying a rape Schiester didn’t even know about, he would find a way to punish him for it. Gavin didn’t need any imagination at all to know exactly _how_ Schiester would repay that.

_But I did rape Isaac. I raped him almost every day when I was with my mother._

Tears blurred Gavin’s eyes, but he forced himself to hold Schiester’s gaze. “I… when we g-got back. I didn’t… rape him. He—”

Schiester held up a hand. “Please don’t try to convince me he was with you voluntarily, and please don’t try to convince me you weren’t sleeping together. My men found you naked in bed with him.”

Shame crushed Gavin’s chest. But even as his heart struggled to beat, even as he folded into himself, even as tears ran from his eyes – a bitter core of rage shifted inside him, seeming to cut him open from the inside out, making him bleed. There was something so _familiar_ about how Schiester seemed to find the heart of Gavin’s shame with ease, slide the knife in, and twist. Gavin swallowed. His mouth was dry again.

Still, he could feel something rising in him, too. Something true that he couldn’t logic his way past, something he’d known from the very first time he’d heard Isaac’s voice.

_Isaac’s not broken._

Gavin leaned back, looking Schiester up and down, from the shine of his boots, to the long coat keeping off the cold of the basement, to the short-cropped silvering hair, to the cold blue of his eyes. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He could _see_ Schiester, in a way he hadn’t even tried to see anyone for a long time.

He could see the cracks.

“I didn’t rape him,” Gavin said again, his voice a little stronger.

Schiester sighed. “Stormbeck—”

Gavin leaned forward. “I didn’t. Fucking. Rape him. If you know a fucking _thing_ about Isaac—”

“I think I know a bit more about Isaac Moore than—”

“No, _shut up,_ ” Gavin spat. He relished the flash of surprise across Schiester’s face. “You shut the _fuck up._ If you think Isaac could see me as a threat to his family and not put me down in a _heartbeat_ —”

Schiester took a step forward, a shadow passing over his face. “Stormbeck—”

“I said _shut up,_ ” Gavin snarled. His fingers locked on the edge of his cot. “You’ve seen what Isaac can do. He… for fuck’s _sake,_ he escaped _me,_ even after I—”

“So perhaps he’s always had a soft spot for the people who see the truth of him,” Schiester said darkly.

Gavin continued as if Schiester hadn’t said anything. “Isaac’s not broken. He’s _not_ fucking broken. M-maybe he… he maybe didn’t… feel for me what I did for him, but… he…” Gavin dashed the tears from his eyes and grimaced at Schiester. “If he thought for a _second_ that I was a threat to his family, he would have put a bullet in my head before we even left my—”

“He brought you north with him,” Schiester said through his teeth. “He brought you north in January when you were a threat, through and through. He let you stay in his _home,_ with his _family._ ” Schiester spat the word like a curse. “He—”

“I don’t think you’re related to me,” Gavin said softly.

Schiester stopped in his tracks. “…excuse me?”

Gavin narrowed his eyes, sweeping Schiester once more with his gaze. “I don’t think you’re related to me,” he said again. “You talk like you’re from my dad’s social circle, but not—”

Schiester shoved his hand into his pocket and drew out the keys to Gavin’s cell. Terror clutched at Gavin as Schiester took a furious step forward and jammed the key into the lock.

Gavin shoved down the terror. “Finn said you were Defense Corps. What, you and my dad liked to hang out torturing prisoners of war? You know we were in peacetime before my fucking family took over, right?” Gavin pressed himself back away from Schiester against the bars, hissing through his teeth as they pressed against the cane marks through the blanket and Isaac’s shirt. “Is that why you started this bullshit? Not enough people around to hurt?”

Schiester’s eyes blazed as he met Gavin’s gaze. His lip curled as he unlocked the door and yanked it open. Gavin scrambled back on his hands, his heart thundering in his chest. Heat curled in his stomach as he watched Schiester step into the cell, rage twisting his features. It spread through his chest, warming his throat, as he watched his words dig under Schiester’s skin and _hurt him._

_I used to be good at this._

Gavin’s lips pulled back over his teeth in a vicious grin. “Or did my dad pick the wrong plaything, hm? Did he pick someone in the DC you _liked?_ I know the bases were destroyed, but what, did my dad scoop up some poor idiot who thought they could _trust you?_ ”

There it was. Schiester’s face contorted in a snarl of rage. He wound up and backhanded Gavin across the face. Knuckles smashed against Gavin’s head and he toppled off of the cot. He sprawled onto the floor, stunned. His mouth gaped open and his eyes rolled back. The rope tied to his collar tangled around his legs

He whined softly as Schiester jerked him upright by the collar of Isaac’s shirt. He tasted the coppery burst of heat in his mouth as blood trickled down his chin from his lip. His stomach heaved, faintly. His head lolled as Schiester pulled Gavin close, his face mere inches away.

Still, beneath the burn and ache of his split lip, beneath the fire of the lash marks on his back, Gavin smiled. Pleasure stabbed through him, sharp as a knife, as he saw the twist of Schiester’s mouth, the tightness in his eyes as he snarled at him.

“Did I hit the mark, soldier?” Gavin said, and spat his blood into Schiester’s face.

Schiester let out a cry and flinched back. He dragged his sleeve across his face, leaving a smear of Gavin’s blood on his cheek. Then he pulled his fist back and drove it into Gavin’s stomach. Gavin screamed and slumped to the floor, only to be jerked upright again. He let out a peal of fevered laughter as Schiester’s hand fisted in his hair and dragged his head back.

“You don’t know who the _fuck_ you’re dealing with,” Gavin sneered, reveling in the feeling he hadn’t let himself feel in months. “You think you know a _goddamn thing_ about torturing people, but you’re nothing but a fucking _Joseph Stormbeck knockoff, fucker._ ”


	24. Chained to a Bed

Schiester slammed Gavin onto his back against the floor. A choked cry punched out of Gavin’s chest and he squirmed under Schiester as a hand crushed against his throat. Tears streamed from his eyes.

“Levine, get your _fucking ass over here._ ”

“Yes sir.”

Gavin writhed as Schiester shoved him onto his stomach and the guard forced his hands behind his back. He hissed through his teeth as a zip tie tightened around his wrists, cutting into the already broken skin. Tears streamed from his eyes as he was forced onto his back again and he whimpered as his hands were crushed beneath him.

He convulsed with terror as Schiester’s hand closed around his throat again, just above the collar, pinning him down against the floor. He shuddered as Schiester leaned forward, his breath hot on Gavin’s ear.

“I was a colonel in the DC, yes,” Schiester hissed, his voice low and deadly and perfectly even. “I was a friend of your father’s yes. I made mistakes. I _trusted_ him. I told him things I shouldn’t have. Things that helped him take the DC down. But when he told me to order the executions of the cadets in the JDC, I refused.” Schiester leaned back, and Gavin ground out a scream as Schiester’s hand tightened, just a little more, on his throat. Schiester huffed out a mirthless laugh. “And he destroyed me. Destroyed the social standing I had, denied me the privileges he _promised_ for delivering the DC to him. And to make sure I couldn’t return to my people…” Schiester’s hand trembled against Gavin’s throat, and beneath the terror, he felt a flicker of heat at the pain in Schiester’s eyes. “…he brought in my best friend, a fellow colonel. He pulled a gun on me and told me to h-hurt him.”

Gavin’s lips pulled into a wide smile. “And I bet you did, didn’t you? I bet you tortured your friend to _death_ like a fucking—”

Schiester pressed his hand down against Gavin’s throat, cutting off his air.

Gavin’s eyes rolled back and he kicked frantically against the floor, his vision going black almost immediately. His eyes rolled back and his throat spasmed under Schiester’s hand. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, Schiester released his throat, and he dragged in a desperate breath. He curled into himself and a rattling cough wracked him.

Pain crushed his throat again as he was dragged backwards by his collar. His head spun as Schiester untied the long length of rope from the bars and wrestled Gavin back until he was across the cell from his cot. Goosebumps erupted over his skin as Schiester shoved him back against the wall of the cell and tied his collar tightly to the bars, keeping him sitting up but preventing him from standing.

Gavin yanked against the zip tie still binding his hands behind him. His head ached from the lack of air as he drew in breath after wheezing breath. Schiester stood over him, staring down at him with fathomless fury in his eyes. He straightened his coat and rolled his neck, his eyes sliding closed for a moment.

“Maybe everything that I was is still there inside me,” Gavin spat through blood-stained teeth. “But you were, were a _normal person_ and you fucking _volunteered_ to help my father bring down your own fucking _military?_ ”

“I would stop talking _now_ if I were you, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said softly, his voice a deadly threat.

“Or what, you’ll torture me to death?” Gavin sneered, desperately ignoring the terrified pounding of his heart. “I’d give you some pointers but apparently you learned from the fucking _best._ ”

Schiester aimed a kick at Gavin’s ribs that left him gasping. His head fell back against the bars and his collar choked him as he tried to swallow. Without a word, Schiester plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out a vial of clear liquid, and a syringe.

“The _fuck_ is that?” Gavin said, forcing down the tremor in his voice.

“I’m curious,” Schiester said impassively, “About what will come up with _this_ dose.”

“What will…” The blood drained from Gavin’s face. He kicked against the floor, crushing himself back against the bars of the cell. “Schiester, what… what _is_ that?”

“Retribution,” Schiester growled. “Levine, hold him, please.”

Cold terror flooded Gavin’s body. “What… what, _no_ …” He flinched away from the guard’s hands as he stepped forward and shoved Gavin back against the bars, dragging his arm to the side so the zip tie around his wrists cut into his skin. He straightened Gavin’s arm as best he could as Schiester stepped forward with the syringe, flicking it to get the last few bubbles out.

“Hold still, Stormbeck,” Schiester said almost gently as he knelt at the guard’s side and slid the needle into Gavin’s skin.

Gavin screamed as the cold liquid entered his vein, not with pain but with horror. He sobbed weakly as Schiester withdrew the needle and stepped back to smile down at him where he sat tied against the bars of the cell. The other guard seemed to fade, almost like he was disappearing into the hazy walls of the basement.

Gavin turned blurry eyes up to Schiester’s. The blue of Schiester’s eyes seemed to deepen, to drag him in, freeze his heart in the already cold basement. His head didn’t feel completely attached to his body. He whined softly and drew his legs up against his chest, as if that could provide him with any sort of protection from the thing that Gavin somehow knew was about to happen. He had no idea what was coming, just knew – a premonition, an instinct, a feeling – that something was coming, something that was going to _hurt_ him.

He cast his gaze around the room, and turned his face away from the thing standing in front of him – a creature, a specter, a monster with cold blue eyes and a tongue like a knife. He whimpered softly and didn’t feel the tears streaming down his face.

He blinked, and the specter was gone – outside the bars somewhere, where the room swirled in dark greys and blacks and blues. Inside the bars, Gavin was alone. Inside, pain raced through him with every beat of his heart. He shook his head and desperately tried to get his eyes to focus. When he finally could, his heart stopped in his chest.

Sam lay on their back on the cot, their arms pulled up over their head and locked in handcuffs to the bars of the cell. Their lips trembled, and their cheeks were stained with tears.

“G-Gavin,” Sam whimpered.

But this was… wrong. Sam’s arm was hurt, they couldn’t tolerate having their arms over their head like that. Gavin squinted, and realized – felt, more than saw – that Sam’s right arm was still intact, uninjured. Their hair was shorter than he remembered it being – _when did I see them last?_ – and their face was… almost rounder, as if they’d aged backwards. They looked so much younger.

They looked _exactly_ the way they looked when Gavin first took them from Isaac’s protection.

Gavin’s stomach heaved and he jerked forward, only to gag as the collar choked him. “S-Sam, no, no, Sam… they didn’t… t-take _you…?_ ” He looked around and shivered at the empty abyss that seemed to loom just beyond the bars. When he looked at Sam again, he cried out in horror.

Leo Tierney stood at the foot of the cot, looking down at them with a hunger Gavin had seen in his face before. Bile rose in Gavin’s throat as he wet his lips.

“L-Leo… no, no, I… I told you that you _couldn’t_ …”

Leo shrugged. “And what the _fuck_ are you gonna do if I do fuck them, boss?” He gestured to his own neck and nodded at the collar around Gavin’s. “Funny little predicament you found yourself in, huh?”

Gavin snarled and he jerked forward again, convulsing as the collar seemed to close around his throat. “N-no. Leo… no, I… I will _kill you_ if you touch them…”

Sam turned their head and looked to Gavin with wide, terrified eyes. “Gavin… p-please, I’ll, I’ll take the knife, I’ll… _please_ don’t let him… I’ll… y-you can drown me again, I—”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut as a sound overtook him, the wet, choked screams as he gleefully poured water over the towel covering Sam’s face, relishing the strain of muscles beneath the skin, the thin wails when he finally let them up. He tried to clap his hands over his ears to block out the sound as it crawled into his bones and settled there to rot.

Leo snorted and braced one knee on the cot. “All I wanted was a little fun. One little fuck. You’re such a prissy little fuck, Stormbeck, you couldn’t even let me have _that_. Fucking bitch.” He shuffled forward on his knees onto the cot and pushed Sam’s legs apart.

_“N-no!”_ Sam sobbed, pulling helplessly against the cuffs. “N-no, _no,_ please, no…”

Leo tipped his head back and drew in a slow, deep inhale. “Fuck, I love when they beg like that.”

Sam looked to Gavin in terror. “G-Gavin, _please!_ I… I’ll t-tell you about the others, I… I’m sorry… I’ll t-tell you _a-anything!_ ” They twisted away from Leo as he crawled over them on his hands and knees, shuddering as he bent forward and dragged his tongue up their neck. “ _PLEASE!”_

“No,” Gavin croaked. “Leo, I… fuck, Leo, d-don’t…”

“You made me wait so goddamned long,” Leo sighed as he pushed Sam’s shirt up, baring their stomach and chest, and bit down hard just below their collarbone. Their shriek split Gavin’s ears.

“Leo, _no!_ ” Gavin roared. He threw himself against the rope as Leo jerked Sam’s pants down around their hips. “Leo, f-fuck, I, you can have _me,_ for fuck’s sake! You can… fuck, _LEO!_ ”

“I’ll tell you everything!” Sam screamed as they heaved great, open-mouthed sobs. “I’ll tell you! Please! Please don’t!”

“You fucking _leave them alone!_ ” Gavin’s scream was hoarse.

“I don’t want you,” Leo said conversationally, not even glancing Gavin’s direction. “You’re so fucking broken, you don’t even fuck your own playthings. Why in the _fuck_ would I want that? This one…” He drew his finger down the side of Sam’s face and they flinched away from his touch, begging wordlessly. “…is so sweet, and…” He snorted. “What the fuck is the point of fucking someone who’s already broken?”

_“No!”_ Sam wailed as they kicked out against Leo. They landed a kick to his stomach and he grunted.

“Not like that,” he growled, pinning them down to the cot. “Don’t like it when you kick.” He grasped their hips and jerked them towards him so the chain of the handcuffs snapped taut against the bars of the cell, the cuffs digging into Sam’s wrists. They whimpered and tried to hide their face against their arm. Gavin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to catch his breath as he sobbed.

“Open your eyes, Stormbeck,” Leo said with poison dripping from every word. “Open your _fucking eyes._ ”

Fresh tears streamed down Gavin’s cheeks as he forced his eyes open. Leo had the front of his pants open, his body pressing Sam down onto the cot. He met Gavin’s eyes and grinned as he forced himself into Sam.

Gavin sobbed helplessly as Sam went rigid, sweat breaking out over their skin, their mouth pulled wide in a silent, desperate plea. Gavin begged Leo through numb lips as Leo began to slowly roll his hips against Sam’s. As Gavin watched, Leo sped up, fucking into them harder, pinning them down against the cot. They writhed under his touch, not even able to draw breath between their sobs. When Sam’s voice rose with a scream, Gavin screamed with them, until the very air in the basement seemed to shake.


	25. Withholding Medical Treatment

Gavin woke to a faint pounding ache behind his left eye. He groaned, pushing himself upright, and froze as the realization struck him – the bars surrounding him, the collar pulled tight against his neck, the burn of pain through the lash marks, the guard sitting at the desk in the corner, the dim lights above him that seemed to stab into his eyes… and the man somewhere outside the basement, who sooner or later was going to come down and hurt him.

He whimpered and let himself slump back down onto the cot, pulling the blanket up over his head. Perhaps if he laid perfectly still, the headache would go away.

Perhaps if he just ceased to exist, he’d be safe.

He pressed against his forehead, tugged gently at his hair, rolled his neck in a weakly desperate attempt to push the headache out. He drew in slow, deep breaths, trying to push down the nausea that curled in his stomach. The room around him began to slowly spin around him, as the pounding behind his eye slowly became a stabbing pain that seemed to burst through his skull with every heartbeat.

The door to the basement opened. Gavin gasped and shot upright, then had to hold back a groan as the pain flashed through him. It seemed to light his very blood on fire, the lash marks flaring to life just as hot, blunt agony pressed against the inside of his skull. He squinted up the stairs. Relief punched through his chest as he realized it was another guard, a tray of food in his hands.

The guard seated at the desk yawned and pushed himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. “Thank fuckin’ Christ. Night shifts are—”

The guard holding the tray chuckled. “They suck, right?”

The man who had been watching Gavin all night threw a look at him that was somewhere between resentment and apathy. “We never keep them for this long. But… I mean, at least I get a differential…”

“Yeah, which you don’t need, Davis,” the fresh guard said, laughing. “The fuck are you gonna spend it on?”

Davis shrugged. “I don’t know. Kids are getting bigger, they might need—”

“You know Schiester will cover what you need,” the other guard said as he placed the tray of food on the desk where he would sit for the rest of his shift.

“Yeah,” Davis croaked. “He’s a good guy.”

Gavin groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey,” the new guard snapped, and Gavin jerked his head up – only to clutch at the bars as the room wobbled around him. The guard turned to Davis. “Has he been moaning like that all night?”

Davis shrugged. “Nope. Mostly just slept.”

The guard sighed. “Good. You on your four day now?”

“Yup.” Davis gathered his things – lunch box, phone, charger. “I’ll be back Saturday.”

“Fun.” The guard snorted. “Have a good weekend.”

Davis nodded and crossed the basement to climb the stairs. “Later, Ginaro.”

“Later.”

Gavin leaned his forehead against the bars, grateful for the cold press of steel against his skin. The collar around his neck seemed only to increase the pressure in his head. His hand crept up to the buckle, fingers sliding over the metal and leather, and he fumbled mindlessly at the constriction at his throat.

“Did you not fucking hear Schiester?” Ginaro snapped.

Gavin froze. He swallowed painfully against the collar. His stomach heaved.

Ginaro snorted. “What part of ‘leave it alone or I break your fingers’ did you not fucking get?”

Gavin kept his eyes down and away from the guard. “S-sorry,” he mumbled, his mouth dry. He shivered and cringed back from the bars as Ginaro picked up the tray and stalked over to the cage. He set it on the floor outside the cage with the clatter of plastic on cement. Gavin flinched as the sound exploded through his head.

“Breakfast,” Ginaro grunted. He turned his back and walked over to the desk, setting his lunch in the small refrigerator next to it.

Gavin looked at the tray sitting just out of his reach where he lay on the cot. There was a glass of water and a plate of dry toast with a scoop of scrambled eggs that looked somewhat fresh. Gavin thought he could see a tendril of steam rising from the eggs, although his left eye was blurry. His stomach lurched at the thought of eating. He groaned and curled up on his side, pulling the blanket up over his head.

“What?” Ginaro scoffed. “That food not good enough for you?”

“No,” Gavin groaned. “Just—”

“Yeah, I imagine everything tastes like shit after the rich fuckin’ food you’re used to,” Ginaro grumbled.

Gavin lifted his head and winced as he tried to focus on the guard sitting across the room, glaring at him. “I’m s-sorry,” Gavin rasped, every heartbeat thundering through his head. “I… j-just…”

Ginaro rolled his eyes. “Spoiled shit,” he said roughly, and pulled out his phone.

Gavin pressed his lips into a line, shivering under the blanket. He was hot and cold, goosebumps breaking out over his skin even as sweat prickled at his hairline. He wanted water. He wanted ice. He wanted his rizatriptan.

He wanted _Isaac._

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he carefully lowered his head again. He wanted Isaac with him, to hold him through the waves of pain and nausea as the pressure grew in his head. He wanted Isaac’s gentle hands in his hair, holding ice to the back of his neck, giving him sips of water and Edrissa’s tea and the pills when he could keep them down. His skin ached with longing, bitter desire that crawled into his heart and burned him.

Slowly, painfully, he worked Isaac’s t-shirt up over his back and shoulders, pulling it off over his head. It hung from the rope tying his collar to the bars of the cell but he clutched it tight, burying his face in the cloth, shuddering from the faint smell of blood that permeated it now.

It still smelled like Isaac. He had to hold onto it while it still smelled like Isaac.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he pressed his nose into the shirt. Sobs tightened in his throat, shaking his shoulders, burning in his chest. He pressed a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to keep silent as his heart shattered in his chest.

He could barely breathe. He felt like he was being torn apart, bludgeoned slowly to death by the pain pounding behind his eye. His stomach heaved, even as his muscles locked, trying not to make a sound. Every second dragged along his skin as he fought himself; his throat burned with thirst, but if he moved to get the water, he thought he might be sick.

A deafening sound shot through the basement: Ginaro, scraping the chair against the floor to push it further away from the desk. The sound nearly burst Gavin’s head open. He rolled in an agonized panic and vomited off the side of the cot.

“The fuck?” More noise as Ginaro got to his feet, his footsteps knocking against Gavin’s brain. Sweat beaded on his face and he moaned as his stomach heaved again. The smell of his own sick was heavy in the air around him.

“The fuck are you doing?” Ginaro snapped. “Jesus…” His voice came from just outside the bars. “Did you… Are you fucking sick or something?”

“N-no,” Gavin groaned, knotting his own hands in his hair and pulling. “Please…”

Ginaro sighed. “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna have to clean that up, I’m not fucking doing it.”

Every word was like a blow to Gavin’s head. “P-please,” he breathed. He shoved his hands against his ears, trying to blot out the sound. “Please.”

“Jesus Christ. They _said_ you were fucking dramatic.” The words reached him, muffled through his hands. An even fainter sound stabbed into his brain: the sound of Ginaro dialing a cell phone.

Gavin’s head snapped up, and the room dipped dizzily around him. _“N-no,”_ he gasped. “No, don’t, don’t t-tell him…” He stretched out his hand through the bars, grasping for the phone in Ginaro’s hand. “Please…”

“I’m supposed to call him whenever you do something stupid,” Ginaro snapped, and held the phone to his ear. “I’d say throwing up over nothing is pretty fucking stupid.” Gavin sobbed weakly as Ginaro stepped away from the cage. He could hear the faintest murmur of Schiester’s voice on the other end of the phone as he picked up.

“Yeah, hey, boss. It’s the Stormbeck kid.”

“No, no, he didn’t say anything new or…”

“No, not that, he’s just… he’s sick, I think.”

“Puked all over the floor.”

“I don’t think so?”

“No, sir, just came down with his breakfast. He hasn’t touched it.”

“Davis said he just slept.”

“Yes, sir. Did you want me to—”

“Okay. Yes, sir. I’ll be here.”

Ginaro hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket.

_“Please,”_ Gavin whimpered, huddling under the blanket. “Please d-don’t, _please,_ he’ll… h-hurt me, please, _no_ …”

Ginaro scoffed. “Yeah, that’s kinda the whole point of this bullshit.” Gavin looked up at him pleadingly, and he rolled his eyes. “Never had to work in shifts before you showed up. You think I _like_ this bullshit?” He turned and went to a door across the room. When he swung it open, Gavin could just barely make out the shapes of mops and cleaning supplies. Ginaro switched on the overhead light in the closet. Gavin flinched as the light stabbed into him from all the way across the basement.

Ginaro grabbed a stack of threadbare towels, a trash bag, and a bottle of disinfectant before he turned and stopped just outside Gavin’s cell. “Here,” he said roughly as he passed them through the bars, one by one. “Clean that up. Towels go into the trash bag. Someone else will do your laundry for you – isn’t _that_ fucking nice?” He ground his teeth as he glared down at Gavin. “Get your ass up and clean. _Now._ ”

Gavin groaned as he looked down at the puddle of vomit beside the cot. He pushed himself up on shaking arms and maneuvered around it, his feet landing on the cold cement floor. The cold air felt good on his head, but he shivered without Isaac’s shirt. His head felt like it would split open as he slowly pulled the shirt back on. He crouched on the floor and pulled the cleaning supplies closer to him. The room didn’t spin so badly when he was lower to the ground.

He took one towel and laid it over the puddle, mopping it up. He placed the towel into the trash bag and reached for another. He scrubbed the wet spot on the floor, shuddering, his stomach heaving weakly. That towel went into the bag and he reached for the disinfectant.

A deathly chill struck his heart when the door to the basement opened. Gavin froze, his hand still outstretched for the bottle. He trembled as he tilted his head up and squinted at the figure walking down the stairs towards him, the picture of ease.

It was only when Schiester reached the bottom of the stairs that Gavin could really force his eyes to focus on him. He shuddered at the look of irritation that darkened Schiester’s features.

“Is our Stormbeck guest not feeling well today?” Schiester said, his voice flat and cold. The words fell against Gavin’s head like stones.

Gavin hung his head and slumped against the frame of the cot. He passed his hand over his face and winced at the sweat that dampened his skin.

“No comebacks today?” Schiester said mockingly. “No ‘My name is Gavin Uriah’?”

Gavin pressed his lips together and stared at the floor. _That_ is _my name. I don’t need to say it to you._

Schiester tilted his head as he regarded Gavin. “It is interesting, though. We’ve had the boy for two days. Nothing in the food has made anyone else sick. Could it be…” Schiester lowered himself into a crouch so he was eye-to-eye with Gavin. “…are you withdrawing from something? Did our Stormbeck boy get himself dependent on something we as his hosts haven’t provided?” The mocking tone dug hooks into Gavin’s flesh.

Gavin slowly shook his head and leaned harder against the cot as the room dipped with the motion. His stomach heaved again and he pressed his hand to his mouth.

Schiester’s eyes narrowed. “Speak to me, Stormbeck,” he said, his voice a gentle threat. “Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Tears rolled down Gavin’s cheeks as he shivered, hot, cold, sweating, freezing. He wet his lips to speak. Even the sound of his breaths whispering through his lungs pressed against the inside of his skull.

_“NOW, STORMBECK!”_ Schiester barked.

Gavin flinched back like he’d been struck and slammed his hands over his ears. He heaved a broken sob as pain exploded through his head. His stomach roiled and he bent over, waiting for more bile to claw its way up his throat.

Through the roaring in his ears, Gavin could just make out Schiester’s muffled voice saying, “Take your hands away from your ears, Stormbeck, or there will be consequences.”

Gavin whimpered and slowly, inch by inch, pulled his hands away. An ice pick was being driven into his left eye.

“Good,” Schiester said, and this time his voice was mercifully quiet. It still drilled into Gavin’s head, but not nearly so much as his shout had. A smile pulled at Schiester’s mouth. “Cover your ears again and I will tie your hands behind your back and blast loud music in here for as long as it takes for you to learn your lesson. Do I make myself clear?”

Gavin raised his gaze to Schiester. “Y-yes,” he whispered.

Schiester nodded once. “Finish cleaning up,” he said flatly.

Gavin blinked. He shivered as sweat soaked into Isaac’s shirt. He reached out with one hand and grabbed the bottle of disinfectant. Under Schiester’s watchful eye, with Ginaro watching impassively behind him, Gavin sprayed disinfectant over the already-drying cement.

The smell was strong and bitter and seemed to burn inside Gavin’s skull. He sobbed weakly as he reached for the last towel and scrubbed the cement until the smell of vomit was gone. Disinfectant was all Gavin could smell. It had crawled under his skin, the acrid, burning fumes spiking the pain in his head. He dropped the towel into the trash bag and pushed everything towards the bars of the cage. He crawled to the cot and climbed onto it, barely holding down stomach bile.

No one moved. Gavin was grateful for the silence, but he shivered with dread as he lifted his head again and looked at Schiester. Schiester’s gaze burned into him, almost seeming to singe his skin.

“Tell me your name, boy,” Schiester murmured.

Gavin moaned. “P-please, no.”

A huff of laughter. “As I said before, Stormbeck, beg if you need to, but know that it will earn you no mercy. Tell me. What is your name?”

_My name is Gavin Uriah._

Gavin wet his cracked lips. “Y-you… already know it.” His insides twisted with terror, with dread, with self-loathing. _If I wasn’t such a coward, I’d tell him my real name and tell him to go fuck himself._

“Tell me your name, boy,” Schiester said, his voice growing in volume. _“Now.”_

“U-Uriah,” Gavin whimpered, his hands creeping up towards his ears. He froze as he remembered Schiester’s threat.

_“Tell me your fucking name!”_ Schiester roared.

Gavin sobbed and writhed in agony. “G-Gavin Stormbeck!” he wailed. “M-my name is, is Gavin S-Stormbeck, _please_ …”

The air in the basement seemed to vibrate still with the echo of Schiester’s voice. Gavin trembled as he stared up at Schiester, his hands clutching the hem of Isaac’s shirt.

“Now, was that so hard?” Schiester said softly.

Gavin lay stock-still under Schiester’s gaze as he looked Gavin up and down, a faint smile on his face. “Ginaro,” he said over his shoulder. “As long as someone is washing those towels, let’s give that shirt a wash, too.”

The words reached Gavin slowly, wading through the thick fog in his mind. Cold settled in his gut when he realized what Schiester meant. His fingers locked on the shirt as he looked back at Schiester, horrified.

“N-no,” he breathed. “Sch-Schiester, no, _please_ …”

“The thing is stained with your blood,” Schiester said, his eyes fixed on Gavin like a snake as he walked to the door of the cage. “Doesn’t that make you sick? Don’t you _want_ it clean?” He slid his hand into his pocket and drew out a set of keys.

“Please, no,” Gavin whimpered, pushing himself back against the bars of the cell even as his head threatened to burst. “Schiester, I… _please_ …”

Schiester unlocked the door and swung it open. Tears streamed from Gavin’s eyes as Schiester took one step into the cage, then another. He stared down at Gavin as he pressed himself back against the bars.

Schiester reached out with one hand and gently traced Gavin’s throat, just above the collar. “Move,” he said gently, “And I will punish you. Do you understand?”

Gavin nodded weakly, his tear-filled eyes looking at Schiester in terror. His hands twisted in Isaac’s shirt. His lip trembled. “P-please.”

Slowly, Schiester untied the rope from Gavin’s collar. Gavin shuddered and held still as Schiester let the rope fall to the cot. He swallowed and felt the collar move on his throat.

“Give me the shirt, Stormbeck,” Schiester said, holding out one hand.

Gavin folded forward with a sob. “Please… _please,_ let me keep it, _please_ …”

Schiester snorted. “You are going to keep it, after it’s washed. Give it to me. _Now._ ”

Gavin brought a fistful of the shirt to his face and breathed, sobbing as he caught the last traces of Isaac he knew he’d ever have. His heart shattered in his chest. He shivered and clutched at the shirt, imagining Isaac’s arms around him, imagining lying down on sheets that smelled like Isaac—

Schiester grabbed a fistful of his hair and cracked his head back against the bars. Agony broke him open and he could barely hear his own sobs as Schiester grabbed the shirt and dragged it off over Gavin’s head. He was limp under Schiester’s hands as Schiester pulled it off his arms and shoved him back down against the cot. The rope was tied to his collar again. His blood was fire that seared the inside of his head. His stomach heaved and roiled as the room spun around him, pain building and sharpening until he felt like he’d die if it lasted another moment.

And yet it lasted. He didn’t die.

Every noise shattered through his skull as Schiester picked up the trash bag and the bottle of disinfectant, handed the disinfectant to Ginaro, and left – his boots echoing on the cement stairs like gunshots. Gavin flinched at the slam of the door that crushed his skull. Tears streamed down his cheeks and soaked into the cot as goosebumps erupted over his skin. The guard returned to his desk. Gavin buried his face in his hands and wept Isaac’s name over and over, heaving great, open-mouthed sobs that broke through his body.


End file.
